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CHARACTERISTIC SKETCHES

SOCIETY, POLITICS, AND LITEKATUKE;

COMPRISED IN

A SERIES OF LETTERS

ADDRESSED TO

THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY.
BY HORACE WALPOLE,
LORD OKFORD.

Engraved ~by S IJfeem

FROM A CRAYON DRAWING XN THE POSSESSION OF ym: R'HOHKVEKNON SMITE, M P

LETTERS
ADDRESSED to
THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY,
FROM THE YEAR 1769 TO 1797.
BY HORACE WALPOLE,
LORD ORFORD.

NOW FIRST PRINTED FROM ORIGINAL MSS.Y^

;,. ..-ii
EDITED, WITH NOTES, BY
THE RT HON. R. VERNON SMITH, M.P.
SECOND EDITION.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
itablfefttv in ©rtiinary to &er JKajjiStg.
1848.

CONTENTS TO
THE SECOND VOLUME.

1780.
T PAGE
Nov. 1.— He relates his recent visits. Madame du Deffand's
legacy to him. Lord and Lady North. The Duke of Glouces
ter. The "Barbary Traveller." The writer's last Volume . 1
Nov. 16. — He praises Lady Ossory's letter to Mr. Stonhewer.
Fitzpatrick's reply to Adam. Arnold and Major Andre. Mr.
Sherlock's Italian . . . . .4
Nov. 26. — Old age incurable. Dr. Hunter and Lady Craven.
Lady Bute and the Neapolitan Prince. Lady Grantham. An
instance of English degradation. The new comedy " The
Generous Impostor." Lord Macartney's speech. Keith
Stewart's news. Lord Clermont on the introduction of
toothpicks . . . . . 6
Dec. 5. — Hogarth's pictures at Bristol. Sale of the writer's own
works. Story of Dr. Chapman and his publisher. And of Sir
Paul Methuen and the Queen. John Thorpe's old book of
architecture. Ampthill . . . .9
Dec. 11. — Confidential news. Admiral Darby and Monsieur
D'Estaing . . . . 12
Dec. 17. — His recent illness. George Selwyn's account of him.
Death of Lady Shelburne. Madame la Baronne. Mr. Mor-
rice, Miss Bingham, and the Crapaudines. Lord Hervey's
Dialogue. The refinements of artificial life exemplified. Dr.
Monro's prescription. Sensation caused by the appearance of
Vestris at the Opera. Pleasant exaggeration of it. A new
mode of gaming . . . . .13
Christmas Day. — War with Holland. John Thorpe's book.
Ampthill. Kirby Hatton. Lord Bathurst and the Scotch
reel. Vestris again . . . . .18
1781.
Jan. 2. — Despairs of solving Lady Anne's riddles. The Prince
of Wales. Brief reflections on the Dutch war. The Countess

VI CONTENTS. PAGE
of Albany. Conduct of the Count. A nuptial ode for Miss
Bingham. Death of Lady Foley . . .20
Jan. 4. — Lady Anne's Quipos and Peruvian verses. Specula
tion arising out of them. Languages for the senses. He
thanks Lady Ossory for the interpretation of her verses. De
vastation of Barbadoes and Jamaica. Expedition against the
Spanish settlement. Lord Cornwallis and the American war 23
Jan. 9. — The defence of Jersey. General Conway. The writer's
concern for the health of Miss Vernon. Anecdote of Cun
ningham. Explication of the riddle verses. Losses by the
devastation in the West Indies. Mrs. Montague's solitude . 27
Jan. 14. — He returns the Peruvian alphabet. Miss Vernon's
health. Charles Fox's combat with highwaymen. Mr. Whit-
bread. The advantage of a brewhouse. He tempts Lady
Ossory to come to town. Mrs. Montague. Colonel Conway's
arrival. His account of a tempest. Solicitude of the writer
for his friend General Conway . . . .29
Jan. 25. — General Conway. The writer's gaming losses. He
has seen Vestris . . . . .33
Jan. 31. — His secluded life. The Prince of Wales. Happi
ness not increased by self-knowledge. General Conway's ill
ness. Captain Waldegrave. Sir Walter Raleigh and his
wife's pictures . . . . .34
June 13. — The beauty-room at Strawberry Hill. Mr. Storer.
Mr. Beckford's work on hunting. That gentleman and his
huntsman. Sir Robert Worsley's " Isle of Wight." . 36
June 20. — He informs Lady Ossory that a royal marriage is not
to take place. The Princess Sophia and the writer's dog Ton-
ton. Anecdote of Sir John Germaine and Sir Matthew Decker 38
July 4. — His health. A visit from the Dowager Duchess of
Beaufort and Lady Betty Compton. Mr. Cholmondeley's
mistake. Captain Waldegrave. Prince Sulkowski. What
George Selwyn said of him. Economy of the Prince. Perlin's
Travels. Paul Hentzner's "Journey in England." [N.] . 40
July 7. — Age the cause of his infirmities. Mrs. Hobart's sans
souci. Her hut on Ham Common. The company at her
ball. Sir Horace Mann. Improvements of the Duke of
Florence. Emptiness of sublunary grandeur . . 43
July 17. — His engagements in his nephew's affairs. Older than
his elder brother. Instance of that gentleman's humour . 45
July 25. — He tells Lady Ossory that he has been dancing. De
scribes how it came to pass. -Xord North and his son. The
Prince of Wales and hops in Eastcheap. Did not dance at
Lady North's . . . . .46

CONTENTS. vii
PAGE
Sept. 4. — Dr. Johnson. Mr. Jones's ode. Poem of " The
Library." Lady Derby's conquest . . .48
Sept. 12. — Retirement of the combined fleets. Probable conse
quences of the war. A smart epigram. Miss Lloyd and the
Emperor of Germany. The Duke of Richmond's story.
Madame du Deffand's papers. The writer's employments.
Lady Mary Coke . . . .50
Oct. 7. — Lord and Lady Vere. Admiral Rodney and Ferguson.
Wars of England. He relates how he and Lady Browne were
robbed. Her ladyship's stratagem . . .53
Oct. 17. — He tells how the adventure of the robbery ended.
Admirals Graves and Hood beaten. The Prince of Wales and
Lady Cecilia Johnstone. Death of Lord Richard Cavendish
and Lord Kelly . . . . .57
Oct. 26. — The Duke of Montagu and Lady Beaulieu. Lord
Orford. His proposed monument to his mother. Mr. Jeph-
son's play founded on " The Castle of Otranto." Neglected
by Sheridan. Accepted by Harris. Mrs. Yates, Miss Young,
and Mrs. Craufurd, the actresses. He sympathizes with
America. His opinion of Lord Cornwallis. France. Degrada
tion of England. Lady Sarah and the Prince . . 59
Nov. 6. — He differs from Lady Ossory on the American ques
tion. Comparative naval force of France and England.
George Selwyn. Miss Lloyd. Miss Bunbury. Miss Sackville 64
Nov. 15. — His trouble in the production of Jephson's play.
French news. Episode of Mademoiselle Diane de Polignac.
Madame Dandelot. The Comte d'Artois and his son. Be
hind the scenes . . . . .67
Nov. 22. — Observations on his state of health. More particu
lars of his vexations in relation to Jephson's play. Lord
Orford's employment . . . .69
Dec. 18. — Rumour of a victory over the French by Admiral
Kempenfelt. And of success in the East Indies. Whist with
Gibbon. Lady Yarmouth and Lady Suffolk. A story of
George Selwyn's telling . . . .71
Dec. 19. — He ridicules the contrariety of the news . . 73
Dec. 22. — Miss Keppel. Bryant and Milles's new works. The
authenticity of Rowley's poems. Lord Macartney and Lady
Mary Wortley's letters. Lady Derby . . .74
Christmas Day. — Why he cannot accompany his niece, Miss
Keppel, abroad. Chatterton and Rowley's poems. His in
difference to the controversy. Degeneracy of modern lite
rature ... . . .76

Vlll CONTENTS. 1789. PAGE
Jan. 7.— Desponding view of the state of England. The licen
tiousness of the press. State of Miss Keppel. Mademoiselle
Theodore at Miss Monckton's. Portrait of Lord Chandos at
Woburn . . . • • 80
Jan. 12. — Reasons for writing by deputy. Allusion to the
strange story of Mrs. Steuart. Captain Waldegrave. Doctor
Dee, the astrologer, his black stone. [N.] . • 80
Jan. 19. — He comments on Lady Ossory's complimentary lines.
Lord George Germaine. The King . . .81
Feb. 9.— His own left and England's right hand. Lords
Stormont and Hillsborough. Mr. Ellis. Savage proposi
tion of the Lord Advocate. Lord North and Lord George
Germaine . . . . . .83
Feb. 23.— Mock reproach of Lady Ossory for staying in the
country. Tactics of the Opposition. On the state of affairs
at that time . . . . .85
March 21. — Resignation of Ministers . . .87
June 13. — News of Strawberry Hill. The weather. Lord
Lewisham's marriage with Lady Frances Finch. Death
of Lady Grandison. Robbery at Sir Thomas Frankland's.
Captain Lucas killed in a gaming quarrel. Modern
apathy . . . . 88
(No date). — The change of weather. Lord Cholmondeley's
embassy. Lord Rockingham. The writers engagements.
(June 28). — Lady North and her daughters. The United
squadrons expected. King William's coat. Death of the
Bishop of Salisbury. [N.] . . . .90
July 1. — Death of Lord Rockingham. Talk of what may be the
consequence of that event, and of the King's conduct on the
occasion. Sarcasm against Scotch Ministers. An omen tell
ing the new premier . . . . .93
July 7. — His conversation with Mr. Fitzpatrick. The writer's
political predilections. His talk with Charles Fox. On his
thoughts of the crisis. Lord Ossory's character of Mr. Fox.
[N.] . . . . . .95
July 11. — Dinner at Lady Mary Coke's. Confidential hints in
relation to the new Ministry. Charles Fox. What he might 99
be. Regrets .
Aug. 4. — His engagements and movements of his friends. The
Prince of Wales. Lady Chewton. Lady Sefton. Mrs.
Bouverie. Colonel Barre. " The Agreeable Surprise." Opin
ion of it. Hayley the poet .... loi

CONTENTS. IX
PAGE
Aug. 15. — He encourages Lady Ossory in the pursuit of anti
quarian knowledge. The Sydney shield. Ampthill-Hough-
ton once the Sydneys'. Reason for that belief. Monsieur
de Grasse. Mr. Morrice .... 104
Aug. 31. — The Duchess de la Valliere recommends Count Sol-
tikoffe and his wife to the writer. Fears of highwaymen.
Mr. King's book " On Ancient Castles." Opinion of it. The
trouble of receiving foreigners. Mr. Scudamore's will. Loss
of the Royal George. Admiral Kempenfelt. The war
deplorable. Mr. Duane and his cow . . .106
Oct. 1. — Terrors of highwaymen. Lady Westmoreland's toasts.
Criticism upon Miss Burney's " Cecilia." The " Vindication
of the Governor of Barbadoes." Modern degeneracy. Let
ter of Paul Jones to Sir Joseph Yorke. General Elliott's
defence of Gibraltar . . . .110
Nov. 3. — His opinion of Mrs. Siddons's powers. Description of
her person. And of her acting. Mrs. Porter and Dumesnil.
1 1 ersch el's telescope. Reflections arising out of it. Hatfield.
Pantomimes deteriorated. Drayton. Lord Monboddo's
proposal of marriage to Mrs. Garrick. Extract of a letter
from Lord Mansfield to Monsieur Limon, complimenting him
on his conduct of Miss Hamilton's case . . .114
Nov. 5. — Size of the new planet. He conjectures what time
they have there. An ear-trumpet for the planets, and other
inventions. What the inhabitants of planets might do. An
other speculation. The Prince de GuemenS's insolvency.
Anecdote of a former prince of that family . .118
Nov. 10. — Of his correspondence with Lord Buchan. Mrs. Ho-
bart's play. Murphy's " All in the Wrong." Opinion of it.
"The Guardian." Miss Hobart's acting. The Company.
The wife of Governor Johnstone. Death of Lady Hertford.
Its cause. The writer's feelings on the occasion. Her cha
racter ...... 121
Nov. 16. — His engagements in town. Lord Hertford's feelings
on the death of his wife. On the author's written character
of that lady. Sir Joshua Reynolds struck with palsy . 125
Nov. 29. — His illness. „ Lord Rodney's procession. Lady Chew-
ton . . ¦ • . .127
Dec. 14. — He excuses himself from writing, on the score of
illness . . . . . .128
Christmas Night. — He describes his recovery. Lady Aldbo-
rough's modest proposition. Mr. Bull's handsome present.
Popularity of Mrs. Siddons. Her discretion. Her sayings.
Bachaumont's " Memoires Secrets" . . 129

X CONTENTS. PAGE
1783.
Jan. 7. — Of writing nonsense by proxy. His notion how treaties
of peace are brought about. A change of the fashion. How
Hayley's disorder of the head had been cured . . 132
Jan. 23  Peace with America. The opportunity open to that
country of constructing a noble government. (Saturday,
26th.)— Peace with Spain and France. What the latter
country might have brought us to. Probable social conse
quences of the peace ..... 134
The Martyrdom. — He rejoices in the peace. He has one qua
lity in common with the chameleon. Le Texier's reading of
" Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme." Cumberland's tragedy. The
King of Prussia's intimation to Holland. Story illustrative
of it. An insurrection at Portsmouth. Lord George Gor
don's offer ...... 137
Feb. 8.— The death of Capability Brown. Resignation of Lord
Carlisle. French historians of dogs and their sayings. Lady
Beaulieu, Lady Albemarle, and Mrs. Hussey. The Suffolk
family ...... 139
Feb. 18. — Defeat of the Ministry. Reflections of the loyalists.
Vindication of Sir Robert Walpole. General Oglethorpe.
Description of him. The Emperor's letter to the Pope . 141
March 11.— Several Prime Ministers rumoured. The use of
premiers. And of levees and drawing-rooms. Death of his
aunt, Lady Walpole. A trait of her. Reply of a French
ambassadress. George Selwyn's bon-mot . .143
March 13. — The Duke of Portland the new premier. Lord
Guildford. Modern refinement in love and hate. He re
commends Lady Ossory to study it . . .146
March 16. — His political application of the words Exodus and
Genesis. The devastation of Sicily and Calabria . . 148
April 5 — Mr. Fitzpatrick made Secretary at War. Attempt to
rob Lady Ossory's house. The Misses Fitzpatrick . 150
April 17.— He doubts the stability of the new government.
Marriage of Lady Frances Scott to Mr. Douglas. The new
French fashion. The King of France about to visit England 151
April 25.— Arrival from Portugal of Mr. Robert Walpole and
his wife. Report of Lord Hardwicke's death. Soame Jenyns.
Political caricatures by Sayer. Bunbury's " Robin Gray" . 153
June 20.— Hatfield. Brocket Hall. A wet June. M. de
Guines and his party visit Strawberry Hill. Stopped on their
return by footpads . . . . j^,
July 15.— Reported death of Mr. Morrice. Meditations on the
season. Lord and Lady Chcwton. Death of Lady Middleton

CONTENTS. XI
PAGE
and Lady Gage. His dinners to blue-stockings. He is pre
sented to Prince William (afterwards William IV). His
impressions respecting him. Illustrious French visitors to
Strawberry Hill. Mr. Mason. The writer's pun upon Miss
Pope the actress's name . . . .157
July 23. — Mr. Morrice alive. Lady Chewton a better nurse
than the Duchess of Devonshire is likely to be. More French
visitors to Strawberry Hill .... 160
Aug. 4. — The sultry season. Lord Carlisle's tragedy. Criticism
upon it. The Rumbolds. Anecdote of a German prince.
Talks with much gravity of marrying his housekeeper. Ad
vantage of so doing . . . . .162
Aug. 27. — The plague in Bedfordshire. Why he should not fear
it. Mr. Craufurd robbed. Prince de Hessenstein. A story told
by Mr. Cambridge. Lady Ella Fitzpatrick. George Selwyn 166
Sept. 9. — The salubrity of London. Mr. Hare. Sir William
Hamilton. George Lord Bristol. Atterbury's pieces. Blair's
criticisms, and Beattie's. Birch's " Life of Prince Henry.''
Lord Harcourt's mansion. Sir Joshua's " Nativity '' at Ox
ford. Young Astley the equestrian. Remarks on his per
formance . . . . . .168
Sept. 27. — The Duke and Duchess of Gloucester. Nancy. His
gout like General Elliott. Apthorpe. Mr. Gibbon. New
Irish peerages. Lord Aldborough's pamphlet . .172
Oct. 9. — Lord Hardwicke's " Walpoliana." The writer's opinion
of it. Lord Grantham. Story of Mr. Seward and his ode.
The writer's own, on Nancy. Story of Captain Prescott, his
wife, and his footman .... 174
Oct. 18. — The advantage of writing nonsense. Of omens. A
female relative of his a believer in them. He comes to Lon
don for his health . . . . .178
Nov. 8. — Lord Spencer's will and widow. Flood and Grattan's
mutual philippics. Woodfall's compliments on the writer's
tragedy. Winter in London preferable to spring . .180
Dec. 30. — He conjectures that his last letters did not please his
correspondent. Cheapness of peerages. Lord Chesterfield
ambassador to Spain. Military order instituted by Washing
ton. Lord Edward Fitzgerald. The writer's troublesome
servants. He confesses his indifference . . . 182
1784.
Jan. 13. — The Duke of Grafton and his son's marriage. Charac
ter of Lady Euston. Her detractors. Mr. Blanchard's Trip
to Calais in his balloon .... 185

Xil CONTENTS. PAGE
Jan. 19. — He relates the death of his brother. Mr. Pitt and the
Chancellor . . . . .187
Feb. 6. — Condoles with Lady Ossory on the death of a parent . 189
June 19. — Lord and Lady Chewton. Virtues bad makers of
wealth. Lady Ravensworth. Captain Cook's voyage. The
writer's poverty. The delusion of age . . 191
Aug. 19. — Reasons why his correspondence languishes. Kings-
gate. His reminiscence of it. Lady Ravensworth's MS. verses
of Gray. The dying Pretender. His consort and Alfieri.
The " Memoirs of Marshal Villars." The writer's especial
reason for liking it. Lord Melcombe's Diary . . 192
Aug. 26. — The runaway marriage of Mr. Fitzroy exemplifies his
ignorance of the news of the day. Mrs Walkinshaw and her
daughter, the child of the Pretender. The " Memoirs of
Cromwell's Family." The " Lettres de Cachet." Miseries,
best unknown to those who cannot alleviate them . . 195
Oct. 23. — The frequency of highway robberies. Mrs. Allanson.
Mr. Powis's charade. Balloons. Science and knowledge
make not the world wiser. .... 198
Nov. 12. — The death of Lady Drogheda. Her character. Anec
dote of the King of Sweden and the Count of Albany. The
Prince of Wales and his new comrade. Mr. Duane, the
virtuoso ...... 201
Nov. 17. — He remarks on the marriage of his niece to Lord
Euston. An old Pagan parable. Mr. Morrice . . 204
Nov. 20. — He recommends silence to Lady Ossory, in the affair
of Lord Euston's marriage .... 206
Dec. 9. — He answers Lady Anne's salique query. The de
scendants of Edward III. Sir John Phillips. The writer's
family on the maternal side. The salique law. The weather
detains him in town ..... 207
Dec. 27. — Communicates the agonies of his illness . . 210
1785.
Jan. 3. — Informs Lady Ossory of his improved health . 211
Jan. 16. — Tells the manner in which he shall die. Cagliostro.
The faith in him wonderful. Dr. Johnson's mental contra
dictions. The Duke of Grafton reconciled to his son's mar
riage. He sends a charade. General Burgoyne's comedy of
" The Heiress." Hayley's " Old Maids." Boswell. Death of
Lady Brudenel. And of Lord Dacre. Sir William Hamilton 211
Feb. 5.— His gout. Sir John Elliott his physician. The Dow
ager Lady Gower's accident. And Lady Strafford's. Elope
ment of Lady Strathmore . 214

CONTENTS. Xlli PAGE
June 7. — Mr. B.'s (Boswell) advertisement. The milkwoman's
(Ann Yearsley) poetry published. Hayley and Miss Seward.
He dines at Gunnersbury. The company. Contented in his
old age. The felicity of a Strulbrug. Swift could not
comprehend it . . . .215
June 20. — He thanks Lady Ossory for her present of a crown
of laurel. Asks leave to present it to Hayley or Cumber
land. The versified life of a young lady. Dr. Johnson's
biographers. The writer mistakes Mr. Richard Burke for
Boswell. Sir Joshua Reynolds's criticism on the writer's por
trait of Henry VII. His opinion of O'Keefe. Harry Fox.
Approaching marriage of the Duke of Norfolk. (Tuesday). —
Lord Sandwich, Mr. Noble, and George Selwyn. Colonel
Fitzpatrick's ascent in a balloon. [N.] . . . 218
June 30.-=-An allusion to Mr. Fitzpatrick's ascent. And to
the writer's crown of laurel. He defends the omission of
Lord Barrington from his "Royal and Noble Authors,"
stating the reasons. Robert Heron. Impertinence of Mr.
Hastings. Busy in a new arrangement of his pictures . 221
July 4. — Thanks Lady Ossory for sending him Mr. Fitzpatrick's
account of his ascent. The Countess of Moira's contribution
to the Archaeologia. Mr. Herschel's new discovery. Mrs.
Yearsley's poems. Chatterton's genius. Rousseau's con
fessions. Madame de Genlis in London. The parson of
Teddington and his wife robbed . . . 225
July 9. — The death of General Oglethorpe. Estimate of Dr.
Johnson. The Duchess of Bedford's broken wrist. The
Archseologia. D'Ancarville's work. The writer's apprecia
tion of the Greeks. Transactions of the Academy of Arts
and Sciences. Lombardy poplars . . 227
July 23. — The English climate. Mrs. Keppel's party. Madame
de Genlis visits him. He describes her. Their conversation 231
Aug. 10. — The new bridge at Henley. Lady Euston and
Lady Ravensworth. The Portland vase. The Emperor of
Austria's sale of pictures and articles of virtu. He doubts
whether even the Reformation was not too dearly purchased.
Of the two he prefers the Church to the Crown . . 234
Aug. 29. — The " Letters of Literature." Reasons why he is
not the author. Dr. Johnson's published prayers. The
writer's opinion of his bigotry. The Cardinal de Rohan . 237
Aug. 19. — Mr. Murray's elopement. The Duchess of Portland
and the vase. Hannah More. Pamela, the pupil of Ma
dame de Genlis. The Irish propositions. Mr. Orde with
draws his Irish bill ..... 240

XIV CONTENTS. PAGE
Sept. 17. — Joseph II. Lady Euston. French translation of
the writer's work on modern gardens. How executed. The
Cardinal de Rohan. A Court story. Dr. Burney and his
daughter. Description of the Prince's new palace (Carlton
House). New parody of the Christcross row. Increased
number of wits and poets since his youth . . 243
Oct. 27. — Sir Ralph Payne and the Poles. Inconveniences of
shewing Strawberry Hill. Lady Lansdowne and the Mar
chioness Grey. Sufferings of his servant David. Eye Por
traits , . . . . .248
Nov. 16. — He cannot compose letters. He answers Lady
Ossory's question relating to the Mowbrays, Dukes of Nor
folk. His servant David dying. Saying of Lord Hervey . 250
Nov. 18. — Marriage between Mr. Pratt and Miss Molesworth.
Death of his servant David .... 252
1786.
Jan. 27. — Madame la Chevaliere d'Eon. He sees her at Mrs.
Cosway's. Description of her. Jack Wilkes and Count
Oginski. Description of the latter. Reminiscence of
Pope's " Patty Blount." Drawing of a Venus by a young
lady at Bath. Hannah More's " Bas-bleus." Mrs. Piozzi's
" Johnsoniana." [N.] .... 253
Feb. 10. — His gout. Mrs. Jordan. His opinion of " The
Heiress." The story of Madame de Choiseul and Monsieur
deCoigny ...... 255
July 5. — He says that, in spite of flatteries, his infirmities are
warnings to him. Dines with the Princess Amelie at Gun-
nersbury. The Princes of Wales and Mecklenberg. His
verses to the Princess. Her Ion-mot on his yawning. His
hay-harvest . . . . .258
July 22. — He imagines that Lady Ossory and he agree in their
political sentiments. His ready acquiescence in her opinions.
Death of Lord Grantham. The Whiteboys . .261
August 2. — He says that the sentiments in his former letter
were advanced in jest. The Duke of Bedford's order to Mr.
Palmer. An accident to the writer's vase. The visitors to
Strawberry Hill ..... 263
August 30.— The difficulty of writing letters when there is
nothing to tell. The new bridge at Henley. Lady Charleville
and her second husband, Captain Mayne. The writer pro
poses that he should be her third. Mr. Hatton's intention to
restore Kirby. Charles Fox at Cheltenham. His occupation 265
Sept. 28. — Death of Lady Graham and of Lady Harriet Elliot.

CONTENTS. XV
PAGE
And of Mr. Charles Hamilton. His squabble with Anstey.
A party at Lady Clifford's. The company. (October 1st.)—
His reception of the Archduke and Duchess of Modena at
Strawberry Hill. Reminiscence of the Archduchess's grand
father and grandmother . . . .268
Oct. 13. — He asks Lady Ossory whether she received the pre
ceding letter ..... 272
Nov. 4. — He returns thanks for charades sent. Mr. West's
verses. Hannah More. Miss Seward and Miss Williams.
Illness of George Selwyn. And of Sir Horace Mann. The
Duchess of Devonshire. The Princess Amelie's legacies.
Calumnies against her in the newspapers . . 273
Dec. 1 — The letter of Beaumarchais. Slighting opinion of his
talents. Character of the modern gens de kttres. Mrs.
Yearsley's ingratitude to Hannah More. The human delin
quencies of Sir Joshua Reynolds. The Countess Strathmore.
Sir Robert Goodere's mistake. The Duke of Queensberry's
palace at Richmond. The pictures there. Lady Cathcart . 276
Dec. 12. — Modified brimstones. Beaumarchais'farce. The writer's
contempt for modern French authors, and of all authors not
really great. The Duchess of Bedford's party. Mrs. Cowley's
new comedy. Miss Farren . . . .281
Dec. 15. — Praise of nonsense. Beaumarchais' epistle. Mrs.
Yearsley's new edition. " The Greybeards." " Cceur de
Lion." Mrs. Jordan. His letters to Sir Horace Mann. Com
ments on Boy dell's projected illustrated edition of Shak-
speare. Lord Macartney. Mademoiselle d'Eon's answer to
Lady Louvain ..... 283
Dec. 22. — He confesses he has not read the commercial treaty.
Lord Clarendon's papers. Mrs. Yearsley and the people of
Bristol. Truths not told early enough to children. Death
of Lady Beaulieu ..... 287
1787.
Jan. 9. — His recovery from the gout. Lady Ossory's theatre.
Compliments Mr. Fitzpatrick. Sends Lady Ossory a French
ditty . . . • ¦ -290
Jan. 21. — The prologues and epilogues of Dryden, Addison, and
Garrick. Mr. Craufurd. Lord Carmarthen's dinner. Charles
Fox and Lord Macartney. General Conway. The King of
Prussia's reported bigamy .... 292
Feb.l. — History of a ballad. A pamphlet recently published. The
wit of women exemplified. The letters of Henry VI.'s reign 295

XVI CONTENTS. PAGE
Feb. 9.— Murphy's comedy of " The Way to Keep Him." The
writer is willing to be made a convert to Lady Ossory.
Sheridan's great speech on the trial of Warren Hastings,
who is found guilty ..... 297
June 14.— The weather. The Duke and Duchess of Buccleugh.
Mr. Cunningham's anecdotes. The theatrical performance
at Richmond House. Ladies and gentlemen the best actors
and authors of genteel comedy. Farquhar, Wycherley, Dry
den, and Mrs. Centlivre. Mrs. Darner's eagle. Lady Walde-
grave's little girl. (Friday night, 15th.) — Deprecation of
Lady Ossory's compliments . . . • 299
June 28. — He asks whether the preceding letter did not miscarry.
His gardener ..... 303
Sept. 6. — He pleads the want of news as an excuse for not
writing. Mrs. Barnard, the quakeress, and her cows. Mrs.
Herbert and the chairman. A sarcasm upon Warren Hast
ings. Mr. Herschel's telescope. The Emperor's mandate to
General Murray. The destruction of Gorhambury. Sir
Joshua Reynolds's " Infant Hercules." Criticism upon it.
Gibbon's new volumes. The Duchess of Kingston. Miss
Boyle's medallion, and Lady Diana Beauclerc's pictures . 304
Sept. 15. — The high prices given for works printed at Straw
berry Hill. The " Anecdotes of Painting." No longer an
author. His contempt for middling authors. He sneers at
Johnson. Mr. Ireland. The reason he withholds his descrip
tion of Strawberry Hill. He suspects his loss of memory . 309
Oct. 4. — He requests Lady Ossory not to shew his letters to Mr.
Fitzpatrick. Says that he never did enjoin Mr. Beauclerc
not to shew his tragedy (" The Mysterious Mother ") to Gar-
rick or Johnson. (Oct. 5.) — His indifference about the wars
in Europe. Monsieur le Chauvelin's verses. He dines with
Lord North at Bushy. A domestic picture . . 314
Dec. 3. — A reason for not writing. The return of the Duke
and Duchess of Gloucester. The Dukes of Orleans and
Bourbon banished from France . . . 318
Dec. 15. — He congratulates Lady Ossory on her escape from a
fire in her house. Story of a similar circumstance at General
Conway's. The General's valet. The writer's misgivings of
his powers. Story of Lord North and Colonel Barre. (Post
script, Dec. 16.)— His suspicion as to the origin of the fire.
The play at Richmond House. The Opera. Story of Lord
Westcote. Anecdote of Lady Ossory's aunt. (Dec. 17.) 
Lord Henry Fitzgerald as Don Felix in " The Wonder."
Mr. Merry in Lissardo .... 320

CONTENTS. XVll
1788. PAGE
Jan. 15. — The theatre at Richmond House. His acquaintance
with Mrs. Siddons, His opinion of her powers. Foreign
news. Prince Alexis of Brunswick. The trial of Hastings
coming on ..... 326
Feb. 14. — He tells Lady Ossory that he has heard of a second
fire in her house. Mrs. Damer and Lord Henry Fitzgerald . 329
July 9. — George Selwyn, the Prince of Wales, and the Duke of
York. The latter's purchase of Oatlands. The season. He
encloses a drawing. (Thursday night.) — Notice of Oatlands 329
July 22. — He thanks Lady Ossory for drawings by Lady
Anne. An intriguing lady. He has got a new admirer.
Story of two new stalls added in the chapel of St. George at
Windsor ...... 333
Aug. 16. — He votes at an election. George Selwyn. Peter
Pindar. " Extracts of the letters of the Regent's Mother to
Queen Caroline." Mr. Samuel Martin. Lady Juliana Penn 335
Sept. 6. — The Druid's temple. Description of Park Place.
Ragley. The mad gentlewoman of the cathedral. The
Duchess of Orleans and Madame Maintenon. Anecdote of
a late bishop of Amiens. A conversation between Ladies
Greenwich and Tweeddale ; and between the latter and the
Duchess of Argyll. Story told her by Lady Onslow. Necker
reinstated ...... 337
Sept. 24. — He commends a description of Dr. Johnson. The
country gentlemen and the land-tax. The Duchess of Kings
ton. A visit from the Duke of York. The inscription sent
to General Conway by the Council of Jersey . . 342
Oct. 11. — Local renown. The landlady at Messling, and the
wit of the village. The writer's answer to the Prince of
Wales. The servility of the Duchess of Northumberland.
Anecdote told by Lady Charleville. He makes the acquaint
ance of the Misses Berry. Their history. Their character,
persons, and accomplishments. Mr. Berry . . 345
Oct. 19. — He sends verses he has composed in praise of the
Misses Berry. Miss Berry's reply to them. Lady Tweeddale.
Lord Leicester. An anecdote of him. Striking remark of
a negro servant. " Memoires de St. Simon . . 349
Dec. 3. — He hints at the imputed madness of the King. Its
consequences not to be predicted. French politics . 354
Dec. 26. — He endeavours to explain an obscure passage in rela
tion to Mahomet. Prussia's letters to Voltaire. Character
of them. Reported death of the King of Spain . , 357

xviii CONTENTS.

1789.

Feb. 6.— His illness. Miss Campbell's death. His poem in
"Bell's Edition." Lady Craven's "Travels." The writer men
tioned in it. Hayley's fourth play. Mr. Fox better . 358
Feb. 10. — Remonstrance against shewing his letters. Reminis
cence of the late Lord Leicester. Lord Holland. Remarks
on Gibbon's great Work. The " Anacharsis" of the Abbe
Barthelemy . . • • .361
Feb. 24.— Criticism upon the Abbe Barthelemy'sbook. Dr. Gil
lies and Mr. Pauw. Lycurgus and the Spartans. (Wednes
day evening.) The King's recovery. Reflections upon it.
Nixon's Cheshire predictions. Lady Craven's travels. Mira-
beau's book. Dr. Parr's " Tracts by a Warburtonian." Death
of the writer's dog Tonton. General Conway and Lady
Ailesbury . ... 364
Feb. 28.— The Cheltenham water. Mr. Pitt. The relapse of
the" King not probable. The Marquis of Buckingham.
Thanks for the portrait of Prince Allemand . . 370
(Monday Evening.— Alludes to a bust he had received. The
Misses Berry . 372
July 1. — His recovery from the fall. The state of France.
Loutherbourg the painter turned physician. Increase of
Swedenborg's disciples. Mrs. Jordan . . . 374
July 16. — Encloses verses by Hannah More. "Bonner's Ghost."
(18.) The civil war in France .... 376
July 22. — How the " Memoires de St. Simon" were made public.
The fall of the Bourbons. All France gone mad. Mr. Lay-
ton. The barbarities in Paris .... 378
Aug. 4. — La Fayette. The writer hopes his government may be
lasting. Observations on the conduct of the Etats Generaux,
and of the French people. The verses on the three Vernons.
Death of General Fitzwilliam. Bequests in his will . 381
Aug. 14. — Condoles with Lady Ossory on the death of Lady
Lansdowne. ..... 385
Aug. 23. — Illness of his niece. The AbM Sieyes and his new
constitution. Lord George Gordon. The Sheridans. George
Selwyn. Answer of the old sexton at King's College . 385
Sep. 13. — Death of his niece, Lady Dysart. Relates a fall he
had. The importance of nobody to everybody. A massacre
of game by the mob of Paris. Prophetic passage from the
Abb6 Raynal ..... 387
Sep. 26. — Thanks Lady Ossory for her French anecdotes. Mr.
Wyndham foretells the success of the French Revolution.

CONTENTS. xix
/-* . PAGE
Questions of the writer respecting it. And pertinent reflec
tions. The Duke of Clarence. The writer's strawberries.
His curiosity to see the new constitution of France . 390
Oct. 9. — His gout again. Mrs. Allanson. " Anacharsis." His
opinion of it. Remarks on France. English pantomimes of
the horrors of the Bastille. Popularity of the Duke of
Clarence at Richmond. (Tuesday night, 13th). — Illness of
Lord Waldegrave. Indignation at the accounts from France.
Pert pedantry the source of all her woes. The atrocities com
mitted by the French people. The cause of liberty disgraced 395
Oct. 29. — Death and funeral of Lord Waldegrave. The resig
nation and patience of his widow. [N.] . . . 400
Nov. 8. — Striking reflections on the French Revolution. Story
of the Abbesse de St. Antoine. Monsieur de Choiseul. The
lesson England should learn from the present state of France.
Voltaire's " Universal History." The writer's opinion of that
great work. Opinion of Gibbon's genius . . 401
Nov. 26. — The Due d'Orleans. His visits to refugees of his
acquaintance. Story of the Dauphin. Original letters of
Madame de Sevigne' and Madame Maintenon in his possession.
Monsieur de Grave. Taylor's book on Plato. Lady Walde
grave. Impatient of the notice the world will take of him . 406
Dec. 6. — The Armada tapestry in the House of Lords. Madame
de Sevign^'s letter. Lord Orford's letters on astronomy. A
print of Necker. The Berrys . . . 410
Dec. 12. — He returns a letter from Mr. Hervey. The ingrati
tude and abjectness of that person. The Emperor's truce
with the Flemings. Mr. Cambridge's " Progress of Liberty."
A wing of Houghton burnt down . . . 412
Dec. 26. — Lord Holland's verses. Mrs. Hervey's new novel.
The Brabanters and the Bishop of Osnaburg. Further re
flections on the French Revolution . . .414
Dec. 30. — Lord Holland's verses. Lord Ossory's poetry. The
Delia Crusca school. Offers Lord Holland his fourth
volume . . . . . .416
1790.
Aug. 30. — Mr. Gilpin's taste. Picton Castle. Chirk Castle.
Nuneham. Story of Mrs. Hodges. A like one of the Duke of
Wharton. Lady Ambrosia Sydney. Miss Ponsonby and
Miss Buttershaw. Fresh horrors in Paris. Refugees flock
ing to England. Shocking death of Monsieur Cazalet. De
nunciation of Necker .... 417
Dec. 1. — Madame de Sillery. Anecdote of her. Mr. Burke's
" Reflections on the French Revolution." The writer's opi-

XX CONTENTS. PAGE
nion of it. Lord Stanhope's ravings. Dr. Price. French
doctrines carried to their consequences . . . 421
Dec. 9. — Exhorts Lady Ossory not to shew his letters. He
mentions his letter to Burke, acknowledging the receipt of
his book. Comments on that performance. The writer's
dispute with Mrs. Macaulay. The excellence of the British
constitution. The affairs of Brabant. Modern English au
thoresses ...... 424
1791.
Jan. 6. — His illness. Proposes to go to London ¦ . 430
Jan. 20. — Tells Lady Ossory that he is worse . . 431
Jan. 28. — The death of George Selwyn. The manner of his
end(N.) . ... . .431
April 25. — Lord Cholmondeley's approaching marriage. The
resignation of the Duke of Leeds. Increase of horrors at
Paris. Mirabeau's death .... 432
April 30. — His nephew, Lord Cholmondeley's wedding. And
Lord ardigan's. Refugees from Paris. Reflections on the
progress of the Revolution. Mirabeau and Washington.
No good government can be formed at once. The Duke of
Bedford. Declines to be seen by him. Account of the death
of the Duke of Bedford, and his character, by Lord Ossory.
[N.] . . . . . .434
June 28. — Escape and recapture of the King and Queen of
France. Barillon's " Letters from England." How the
French may be affected by having the King and Queen in
their power ..... 438
Aug. 8. — His reluctance to attend church. The " Woburn
Catalogue." Burke's appeal. Charles Fox. Tom Paine.
Dr, Priestley. Mr. Merry's Ode. The Berrys. . . 441
Aug. 22. — His tolerance of praise. Burke's book. Charles
Fox's peace-offering. The National Assembly. — A horrible
story of French barbarity .... 443
Sept. 8. — He undertakes to compose a catalogue of the Duke of
Bedford's pictures. Pennant. His blunders. Mr. Fitz
patrick's study of botany. Dr. Darwin. Speculations on
the French Revolution. Condorcet . . 44,7
Sept. 30.— Catalogue for the Duke of Bedford. A particular
picture at Woburn. Kirgate his secretary. Arundel castle.
Madame du Barry and George III. . • . 4,52
Oct. 26.— Genealogy and pedigrees useful in the study of
history. Allusion to the death of one of his servants . 454
Nov. 23.— Another fit of frenzy of Lord Orford. The ingrati
tude of his nephew. Mr. Lysons, author of the " Environs of

CONTENTS. XXI PAGE
London." Dr. Robertson's Work. The writer's opinion of
the author. The Duchess of York. Death of Lord Craven
on Friday. Lady Craven's marriage with the Margrave of
Anspach on Sunday . . . • .456
Dec. 10.— The death of Lord Orford told by implication. The
writer's accession to the title and a fortune. [N.] . 460
Dec. 26 — He avows that the lordship has half killed him. As
yet he has paid no visits .... 461
1792.
Jan. 18. — Lord Holland's verses. The Round-Robin. Himself
the poorest Earl in England. His nephew Lord Orford.
How his death was precipitated. The Pantheon burnt. His
intentions for the future .... 462
Jan. 16. — The pantomime of "Cymon." Philosophical in
difference to his present situation . . . 465
Feb. 4. — Thanks for Lord Holland's prologue and epilogue.
Madame de Sillery and the Bishop of Autun (Talleyrand) in
England ...... 466
April 10. — Improvement of his health. An allusion to France. 467
(30.) A short note, signed ' Orford.' [N.] . . 468
May 22. — He is sorry to hear of Lady Ossory's indisposition . ib.
(Monday, 14.) His regret that he should have been engaged
when Lady Ossory called upon him . . . 469
Childernmass-day. — A whimsical note in the character of Jack
the Giant Killer . . . . . ib.
May 29. — Thanks for the transcript of a letter on '• Wives."
Eulogizes the Misses Berry. The anticipated murder of the
King and queen of France. The philosophic legislator's re
commendation to the former. A lottery of porcelain and
millinery ...... 470
June 27. — Recounts his ailments. Mrs. Hobart's fetes. High
way robberies. Indignation against the people of Paris. The
National Assembly. (Thursday.) His ownbaffairs. Indiffer
ence to wealth ..... 472
July 7. Thanks for recommending the baths of Lisbon. Victory
of Cornwallis over Tippoo Saib. Allusion to Catherine of
Russia. Juliana Barnes's (Berners) " Boke of St. Albans."
Letter from Lord Cornwallis to Lady Waldegrave. . 457
July 17. — Memoirs of Lady Fanshaw. Pulteney and his patent
of nobility. Enters into a detail of his correspondence with
Chatterton, and of the controversy that has arisen out of it.
Dr. Glynn . . . . . .477
Aug. 18. — Indignant denunciations of French ferocity and bar
barity. Catherine of Russia. He reverts to French affairs.

XXll CONTENTS. PAGE
The Viscount de Noailles. Speech of Lord William Gordon.
And of Madame de Coigny. The novel called " Desmond " . 481
Sept. 4.— Lady Sutherland's visit to Strawberry Hill. Her son
Lord Strathearn. On the French Revolution. Malachowski's
protest. The Polish and English Revolutions . . 485
Sept. 10. — He deprecates a controversy with Mr. Fitzpatrick. A
conversation with Mrs. Macaulay. Observations on the French
Revolution. The follies and puerilities of the National As
sembly. Narrow escape of Merry the poet. Muley Ishmael
King of Morocco. [N.] . . . .489
Oct. 8. — The Duke of Brunswick beaten by Dumourier. Philip
l'Egalite. The Duchesse de Fleury. Description of her.
Her relation of French atrocities . . . 493
Oct. 14. — No good news can be expected from France. Ire
land. The Catholics and Dissenters. Praise of French
priests. Lord Cliefden's small subscription. Miss Knight's
" Marcus Flaminius." His opinion of that performance. How
it came to be dedicated to him .... 495
Nov. 29. — Observations arising out of the state of France.
" Marcus Flaminius." He conjectures, from the present as
pect of the world, that some totally new religion will start up 498
Dec. 7. — He replies to Lady Ossory who had tried to persuade
him to take his seat in the House of Lords. Further remarks
upon the proceedings in France. His admiration of the Bri
tish Constitution. A question put to Miss Agnes Berry. A
waiter's eulogy of a fiddler . . . .501
1793.
Jan. 8. — His abhorrence of the Duke of Orleans and Condorcet.
Iniquity and ferocity of the latter. A story of the Duke of
Orleans' unnatural villany. The King and Queen of France.
Lord Edward Fitzgerald married to Madame de Genlis' Pa
mela. Lord Darnley's answer to Lord Henry Fitzgerald . 504
Sept. 6. — His gout. A portrait of Prince Henry. Sudden death
of Lord Buckinghamshire. The beauty of the summer. [N.] 507
Nov. 2. — The probable fate of Madame Elizabeth. The frantic
atrocities in Paris. Lady Waldegrave . . . 510
Nov. 10. — He returns French verses to Lady Ossory, which he
agrees may have been written by Mary, Queen of Scots. His
health and retired life. The French philosophers. The
rampant stupidity of French democracy. Influence of Vol
taire's writings on monastic vows, illustrated by an anecdote . 511
Dec. 9. — Lady Compton's letter. Mr. G. and himself. The
Berrys . . . . . .514

CONTENTS. xxm PAGE
Dec. 26. — Lord and Lady Warwick's new villa. His recollec
tions of it. His partiality for moving objects . . 515
1794.
Jan. 30. — His old friends dropping around him. He enume
rates some recently departed. He must now indulge his indo
lence ...... 517
July 22. — Lady Warwick. Extreme sultriness of the summer.
His late serious attack. Lord Hertford . . .519
July 29. — His late illness reported to be an accident attended
with ridiculous circumstances. Mrs. Fitzherbert and Lord
Howe . . . . . .520
Aug. 3. — Congratulates Lord Ossory on his English peerage.
Lord Macartney's failure in his mission . . . 521
Sept. 4. — Death of Robespierre. Reflections arising out of that
event. Lady Waldegrave. Hannah More. The " History
of the House of Brunswick" .... 522
Oct. 6. — Lady Malpas. Lord Cholmondeley. Probable death
of Lady Bute. Affairs in Paris. The ruins of Houghton.
The true secret of happiness .... 524
Dec. 8. — Two new editions of the " Deluge." One twenty
years ago from which the late Duchess of Northumberland
escaped. Death of Lady Bute. Lord Macartney. The new
Countess of Exeter. Portrait of Catharine Parr. Voltaire's
mode of treating history .... 527
1795.
Dec. 11. — The Duke of Bedford and his meeting. Declines
making a speech in the House of Lords. Himself and the
Duke of Northumberland. Advice of Mrs. Carter, the
authoress ..... 529
Dec. 26. — Thanks for kind inquiries . . . 531
1796.
Feb. 14. — His recovery from a dangerous attack. Trivial events
of moment to those who live out of the world. A mass of
topics during his illness . . . . 532
July 12. — His illness. Allusions to news of the day . . 534
Sept. 2. — His confinement to a couch. Lord Holland. The
writer's willingness to give him all the information he can
about past times. The yellow fever in the West Indies.
Death of George Churchill from it. His character . 535
Sept. 17. — He will endeavour to answer Lord Holland's written
questions. The confusion of his memory . . 537

XXIV CONTENTS. PAGE
Sept. 30. — Returns Lady Ossory, with thanks, Lord Holland's
verses. Literary character of Rousseau. Begs her ladyship
to assure Lord Holland that he will satisfy his curiosity about
Lord Hervey's history to the best of his memory . . 538
Nov. 6. — His extremely weak state. The second volume of
Gough's " Sepulchral Monuments" published. Its size and
contents ...... 540
Nov. 13. — Laments the death of the Duchess of Richmond. His
affection for her. Her bequest to him. (Monday 14th) Lady
Ailesbury and Mrs. Damer. Lord Holland and Holland
House. Burke's new pamphlet . . . 541
Nov. 20. — He has forgotten his antiquarian knowledge. De
clines therefore to decypher queries about the minster at
Beverley. Dr. Percy. Mr. Gough's " British Monu
ments." . . . . . .543
1797.
Jan. 4. — Intended French invasion. Its failure. Dismissal of
Lord Malmesbury. Mr. Huitson his surgeon. Lord Spen
cer. [N.] . . . . . .545
Jan. 15. — Complains that Lady Ossory shews his letters. Rea
sons why they cannot be worth shewing. Desires to be dis
pensed from his task. A mournful conclusion. . . 547

ERRATA.
Vol. I. p. 325, line 7 of note, for disarming read discerning ; and eleven lines
lower, for Wolverston read Winterslow,
Vol. II. p. 346, five lines from bottom, for tag read jig.
„ p. 416, the Note should be removed to p. 414, and the reference
placed on Holland's,* line 3 of the text.

LETTERS

THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY

THE HON. HOEACE WALPOLE.

LETTER CLXXXIII.
Berkeley Square, Nov. 1, 1780.
I have suspected, for some time, madam, that I
am growing superannuated, and now I am sure of it, for
I don't know what I say. I certainly did not, if I told
your ladyship that I was going to Nuneham for & fort
night. I meant to stay but two nights, and literally
did stay but three ; and the reason I gave you, not
having been there in two years, was the worst reason I
had to give, another proof of dotage ; for besides the
visit to Lord and Lady Harcourt, to whom I certainly
have great obligations, my journey comprehended two
visits (going and coming) to Mr. Conway, who still
kept his bed ; and moreover I was to meet Mr. Mason
at Nuneham. All this is not an excuse of myself, but
an accusation. Your ladyship's is not quite so just.
VOL. II. b

2 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
You know I offered myself at Ampthill first, and your
election, and then your immediate removal to Farming
Woods, prevented my paying my first duty to your
ladyship and Lord Ossory ; and when I pleaded a debt
to Lord Harcourt, I did and could mean nothing but
the specific moment in which I was to go to him. Dif
ferent fits of illness, and close confinement have inter
rupted several intended journeys to Ampthill ; and all
last year I was literally not out of my own house
once, no, not once, I mean not to sleep anywhere else.
I certainly am better at present than I have been
these five years, and if it continues, will indubitably
wait on you ; it shall certainly be the first visit I will
pay any where.
As I have been returned above a fortnight I should
have written had I had a syllable to tell you ; but what
could I tell you from that melancholy and very small
circle at Twickenham Park almost the only place I do
go to in the country, partly out of charity, and partly
as I have scarce any other society left which I prefer
to it ; for, without entering on too melancholy a de
tail, recollect, madam, that I have outlived most of
those to whom I was habituated, Lady Hervey, Lady
Suffolk, Lady Blandford — my dear old friend, I should
probably never have seen again — yet that is a deeper
loss, indeed ! She has left me all her MSS. — a compact
between us — in one word I had, at her earnest request,
consented to accept them, on condition she should leave
me nothing else. She had, indeed, intended to leave
me her little all, but I declared I would never set

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 3
foot in Paris again (this was ten years ago) if she did
not engage to retract that destination. To satisfy
her, I at last agreed to accept , her papers, and one
thin gold box with the portrait of her dog. I have
written to beg her dog itself, which is so cross, that I
am sure nobody else would treat it well; and I have
ordered her own servant who read all letters to her to
pick out all the letters of living persons, and restore
them to the several writers withdut my seeing
them. "Were I vain-glorious, to be sure I might have boasted
of passing a second evening with Lord and Lady North
— nay, at their own palace. Perhaps you will think. I
am going to be swaddled in ermine in my dotage like
old Brudenel ; but be assured, madam, that I do not
design to have robes and a coronet laid on my death
bed like Lord Hunsdon.
I came to town on Sunday to pay my duty to the
Duke of Gloucester, who, however, did not arrive till
last night. I never saw him look so well and so ro
bust. He returns on Saturday to stay till after
Christmas : so shall I, but for only two or three days, as
all my few acquaintance have left my neighbourhood,
and as I do not think it prudent, at this critical time
of the year, for me to be much in the country. I may
be in a busy scene here for aught I know, but I take
care to have no business with it. Another phoenix, just
like its predecessor, is risen from the ashes of the last
Parliament; and I suppose will have the final honour
of consuming its own nest. Lord Ossory, I conclude,
B 2

4 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
is arrived, and will tell you particulars of which I am
informed only by the newspapers.
George I have seen in his paternal mansion, and
drank tea with him and his adopted babe and its
governess, and Mr. Storer. He goes every night at
nine to the new Irish Queen's coucMe.
Your ' Barbary traveller' is probably an ape of Mr.
Bruce, and hopes to lie himself unto 7,000^. I can
sooner believe that savages eat living beef-stakes than
that they imitate our pitiful European vice of in
sincerity. The impulse of nature may make us
knock out the brains of an enemy; but it must be
long tutored, and civilised, and polished, and refined,
before we sell our country and posterity for a mess of
potage. As your ladyship has long had the bulk of my book,
my last volume (and last volume it shall be), it was
not worth while to send it to you for the addition of
two or three pages ; but since you desire it, if I am so
lucky as to see Lord Ossory, he shall have it.

LETTER CLXXXIV. Berkeley Square, Nov. 16, 1780.
It will, I am sensible, madam, look like paying
your ladyship for your compliments ; and that will
look like swallowing them greedily ; and yet I must
instantly tell you how very much I am charmed with,
and applaud your letter to Mr. Stonhewer. I cannot

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 5
select such apt words as your own ; it was noble,
simple, genuine. Those epithets belong to handsome
actions, not to trifling writings. I do not know what
the House of Lords will do ; nor have I heard that
they know yet. They have appointed a committee on
the affair.
Mr. Fitzpatrick's last reply to Adam was excellent ;
but methinks the man on the white horse in the Reve
lations, whose name, I think, was Death, is gone forth !
I am sorry it is a white horse. That did not use to be
the colour on which revenge rode ; but everything is so
confounded now, that one does not know a white horse
from a white rose.
A good courtier, yesterday, sang the praises to me of
that atrocious villain, Arnold, who, he said, till he
heard of Andre's execution, would not discover the
persons at New York, with whom Washington was in
secret correspondence ; then indeed he did. Only
think of the monster! I hope he will be a Privy
Counsellor ! betraying to Sir Harry Clinton, in the
height of his indignation for Andre-, the wretched poor
souls cooped up in New York, who are guilty of that
correspondence. When I expressed my horror at such
bloody treachery, and said I did not doubt but Lord
Cornwallis's savage executions had hurried on Andre's
fate, and were, besides cruel, indiscreet; the same
apologist said, " Oh ! we have more prisoners of theirs
than they have of ours." How tender to their own
friends, who, they do not care if hanged, provided
they can spill more buckets of blood ! I know no-

6 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
thing of poor Andre" ; he is much commended, but so
he would be, if as black as Arnold.
I am far from guessing why Mr. Sherlock does not
write in his own language, unless it is for the reason
your ladyship so luckily guesses. I should think every
body in this age could write best in his own. For
merly, before the babel of languages that overwhelmed
the Latin, were settled into some idiom, folks wrote
better in the tongue of the Romans than they could in
their own hodge-podge ; but that is no longer the case.
Mr. Sherlock's Italian is ten times worse than his
French, and more bald. He by no means wants parts,
but a good deal more judgment.
I am not got abroad again yet, but think I shall in
two or three days : nor have I heard anything new, or
more than I tell you ; except its being said now that
Lord George Gordon will not be tried this term.

LETTER CLXXXV. Sunday, Nov. 26, 1780.
My aches are not so mighty, madam, as to merit
your obliging inquiry after them ; they come and go,
and are rather omens of crippletude than positive evils.
One should not mention marks of decay as illness, for
is there a remedy for old age % I do not condemn
Medea, who knew there was no other than chopping
her father into cutlets. Miss Vernon's disorder is of
consequence ; beauty and youth should be tended ; I
am sure she will want no attention at Ampthill.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 7
• • I may totter as much as I please ; I believe the
dowagers on either hand of me have a very different
idea of me ; at least if they keep watch and ward at
their windows, as dowagers sometimes do. Two morn
ings ago they might have seen me receive, first, Dr.
Hunter, and a moment after, Lady Craven — a man-mid
wife and so pretty a woman are very creditable ; and
yet, alas ! he came to talk to me about Greek medals,
and she of a new comedy she is writing.
A still odder thing happened at night : I asked Lady
Bute who this Prince Callimanco is (for so I am sure
the mob will call him) who is coming from Naples.
" Lord," said she, " don't you know \ Why he is the
favourite of the Queen of Naples." "That I should
have thought," said I, " would rather be a reason for
his not coming." " Oh," said she, " I suppose she is
tired of him." Should one have expected, that of all
living beings that would have been a topic for Lord
Bute's wife to have tapped ! The same night, at Lady
Holdernesse's, I saw Lady Grantham : as she is not my
wife, I really think her very tolerable. She was well
dressed, behaved like a human creature, and not like
her sister or a college-tutor. Her lord is to kiss hands
to-morrow as first Lord of Trade.
I do not find that Lord Deerhurst is dead yet, nor
has lost his eye ; but the surgeons despair of him.
We and Holland grow very fractious. We bully,
and so we have done before, and then drew in our
horns : they will not mind, nor I dare to say go to
war with us ; but do us all the hurt they can. They

8 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
have offered us another bitter pill ; and I am sure we
kicked at that with all possible temper. His majesty
asked his lordship, Master Fred, the new lord-lieu
tenant, whether he should swallow it. Master Fred,
who has been lord-lieutenant about six thousand —
seconds, advised King George not to take such a nasty
potion, and so King George has begged to be excused ;
and so I suppose the Dutch agent will go to Ireland,
whether they will or not ; and Master Eden will be
ready to offer to make it up as he did in America.
Ma foi, vive la dignity ! We have bullied ourselves, as
the vulgar say, out of house and home, and solve all
by saying, I wont say I have been in the wrong.
There is a new comedy, called the " Generous Im
postor," which Mrs. Crewe and all Sheridan's protectors
protect, though he did not write it ; but I hear it is
most indifferent. It is a translation or imitation of
" Le Dissipateur."
Lord Macartney's speech pleased much at the India
House, and I hear his chance improves, of which I am
very glad. It is said that the Nabob of Arcot has
litterally bought four members of parliament to guard
his interests — I thought he had taken much higher
precautions. I like this purchase, as we are grown
perectly ridiculous and contemptible — the more we
grow so, the more diverting. When we have Cardinals
I suppose they will be protectors of different nations
as at Rome : Cardinal Hurd of the Duke of Mecklen-
burgh, and Cardinal Cornwallis of the Pope.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 9
Monday.
Keith Stewart arrived on Saturday in a dismal way,
and with a dismal account. He was forced to push to
England to save his ship from foundering, saw three
others of Rowley's fleet dismasted and four missing.
All this is hushed up as much as possible, lest we
should be frightened and not continue to knock our
heads against stone walls, and wintery oceans, and
fatal climates. We tremble, too, in whispers about
D'Estaing's and Guichen's junction. The Duke of
Northumberland, who never was old till a fortnight
ago, had an audience on Friday to have leave to resign
from infirmity^ but as that is no incapacity, he was
pressed to stay, and was convinced.
I dined with the Lucans yesterday. After dinner
Lord Clermont informed us that in the course of his
reading, he had found that Scipio first introduced the
use of toothpicks from Spain. I did not know so
much ; nor that his lordship ever did read, or knew
that Scipio was any body but a race-horse. His classic
author, probably, is Marsh upon the Gums. Lord
Melbourne is to be a viscount, and in time will read —
en voilapour aujourdhui !

LETTER CLXXXVI.

Berkeley Square, Dec. 5, 1780.
I have the best of all excuses, madam, and that
which a saint might make, for not having mentioned
the pictures of Hogarth at Bristol, of which Lord

10 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Shelburne is so good as to inform me. I should have
specified if I had known of them, because, being in a
church, they are considerable enough : otherwise, I
confined myself to his pictures that were not, portraits,
the latter being too numerous ; and to the prints from
his works for the use of collectors. I am much
flattered by Lord Shelburne's approbation, though I
am sorry he gives himself time to read such idle books ;
and I am obliged by your ladyship's haste to acquaint
me with my omission ; though, I assure you, I shall
not be pressed to repair it, as it will be long, I believe,
before there is occasion for a new edition. I printed
600 to supply the purchases of the two editions of
the former volumes. Not above a quarter are sold yet,
and I have no right to settle in my bookseller's shop ;
one should only pass through it, or not go thither.
I remember a story of poor Dr. Chapman, one of Dr.
Middleton's antagonists, but I have so entirely for
gotten his works that I shall tell it very lamely. He
went to his bookseller, and asked how his last work
had sold ? " Very indifferently, indeed, sir." " Ay !
why how many are gone ofl"? " "Only five, sir!"
" Alack ! and how many of my ' Eusebius ' (I think it
was) have you left % " " Two hundred, sir ! " " Indeed !
well, but my book on (I don't know what), how many
have you of them 1 " " Oh ! the whole impression,
sir ! " " Good now ! good now ! that is much ! "
" Well ! Mr. — , I cannot help it ; I do my duty, and
satisfy my conscience."
I will write on ; not being so conscientious as Dr.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 11
Chapman, I shall accept or take my quietus ; but as
we are only among ourselves, I will tell your lady
ship another old story d propos to Lord Shelburne's
reading idle books.
After Sir Paul Methuen had quitted court, the late
queen, who thought she had that foolish talent of
playing off people, frequently saw him when she dined
abroad, during the king's absences at Hanover. Once
that she dined with my mother at Chelsea, Sir Paul
was there as usual. People that play off others,
generally harp on the same string. The queen's con
stant topic for teazing Sir Paul was his passion for
romances, and he was weary of it, and not in good
humour with her. " Well, Sir Paul, what romance are
you reading now % " " None, madam ! I have gone
through them all." " Well ! what are you reading
then V "I am got into a very foolish study, madam ;
the history of the Kings and Queens of England."
Perhaps Lord Shelburne thinks romances as wise a
study. I know nothing of yesterday's debate more than
you will see in the papers, madam ; nor of anything
else; no, not the title of Lady Craven's play, which,
not being quite born, perhaps is not christened.
When you write to Lady Warwick, I wish your
ladyship would persuade her (with her earl's leave) to
bring to town a most curious book, which I once
looked over in his father's time. It is a folio, by one
John Thorpe, in the reigns of Elizabeth and James I.,
and contains many ground plans and a few uprights of

12 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
several goodly mansions of those days, of some of
which John Thorpe was the architect. This is not
mere personal curiosity : I have found in my notes that
in that book is a plan of the old house at Ampthill,
altered by John Thorpe. I want to see whether
that Ampthill is your Ampthill or Houghton. It is a
pity the book is not engraved : being only lines it
would not cost much, indeed many persons would be
glad to subscribe for it. As Mr. Charles Greville is a
savio, I marvel he does not promote it. Did I ever
tell you, madam, that Elizabeth Duchess of Exeter,
sister of our Harry IV., and her second husband, Sir
J. Cornwall Lord Fanhope, lived at Ampthill, and he
died there ? Their portraits in painted glass were
in the church, whence there is a pretty print in Sand-
ford's " Genealogic History of the Kings of England ; "
but I dare to say that I have told you this before,
et que voila de ma radoterie, — it is a proof at least
that I dote on Ampthill.

LETTER CLXXXVII. Berkeley Square, Pec. 11, 1780.
Whether you are glad or sorry, or neither, my
lady, the empress-queen is dead, and Miss Bingham is
to succeed her. Oh ! no, I mistake ; the latter is only
to be Lady Althorpe at present. But I believe another
empress -queen will feel her crown totter a little by
this match. It was declared at Devonshire-House on

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 13
Saturday after the opera, and the emperor — stay, I
mean Admiral Darby was to beat Monsieur D'Estaing
yesterday, and everybody was in such spirits on these
three great events, for the emperor is to march directly
into Lorrain, and Lord Spencer is to convoy — Lord
bless me, I heard so much of all those matters, that
I do nothing but confound them, and don't know one
from t'other, so I will say no more on them.
I saw Madame la Baronne last night at Madame de
Welderen's, ay, and the baron, too ; he is well enough,
and she looked very well.
I know nothing else upon earth or water, but I have
sent your ladyship enough to spread upon many slices
of conversation, and that is the great use of letters in
the country. LETTER CLXXXVIII.
Berkeley Square, Sunday, Dec. 17, 1780.
No, madam, I have been much out of order, as the
outworks have for some time been in ruins, I thought
the citadel itself was at last, to use an old word, be
leaguered. In short, for some days I had a pain in my
stomach ; and never having had it there, nor knowing
how it feels there, I concluded it was the gout. But it
took another turn, and became a. disorder that has been
fashionable, and was almost gone out of fashion ; just
the time when the ancient generally adopt modes. I
am pretty well again, but look ruefully as you may be
lieve, for I can afford to part with very little of my

14 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
embonpoint. You ask if I shall pass my Christmas in
town ; I know and feel it is a kind question ; but I
must answer, alas ! yes. I am grown an Astracan
lamb, and vegetate in one spot. George Selwyn says
he told your ladyship that I am out of spirits. I did
not know it particularly, nor have any cause ; but I
am sensible they often flag ; and one reason for my
reluctance to go anywhere is, that if I am not per
fectly quiet all the morning, I am exhausted before
night. This, with twenty other decays of which I am
sensible, makes me shun what I am not fit for.
I will return Lord S.'s letter when I have the honour
of seeing your ladyship. I do not know whether he
judges rightly of certain persons just at present. It
has been their mood, and may be so still ; and I know
one that having tried others and been rejected, is
willing, nay desirous, of trying with those Lord S.
means, what he tried last year ; but I should wonder
if they were accepted now, unless to expose them,
which is not worth while. Nobody blots flimsy blot
ting paper out of spite.
My old acquaintance, or rather my acquaintance,
old Lady Shelburne, I see by the papers, is dead. How
has she left her fortune, once so great, but which with
superabundant cunning she had rendered almost as
crazy as she was latterly %
Your aunt was charming about Madame la Baronne,
till almost the last minute, and told me they would
have very little. But indeed when people were in love
with one another ! However, I suppose to accustom

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 15
them to economy, she did not give the baron a dinner
even on the wedding-day, and he begged one of the
parson that was to marry them. The kitchen was as
cold the next day, and the turtles pecked on the same
parson's board.
Mr. Morrice has been in England above these two
months. I have not seen him, for he has been laid up
with the gout at Chiswick from within a week of his
arrival, when, I hear, he looked as ill as when he went
abroad. I thought Lord John much broken before he
went out of town.
The Crapaudines begin to discover amazing charms
in Miss Bingham. One of them, as Lord Althorpe was
talking to her, went up to him, and, holding up her
fan that Miss might not see what she said, told him,
" She is a sweet creature !" Another of them repeated
this ; and yet I would not swear was not the very
person that said it ; for, if a court is no bigger than an
egg-shell, it is equally full of jealousy and treachery. I
wish the inhabitants of any Court would write come
dies — if they could speak truth. They would need but
to write down what they have seen and heard — and
there would be character with a witness ! Lord
Hervey did leave a Dialogue of one whole day in the
late King's reign, that is, of what commonly passed
there. It was not, I believe exactly what I mean, but
rather a ridicule on the individuals of the dramatis
personce ; I never saw it, but Lady Hervey told me it
was the best thing he ever wrote : however, those
would be transient ridicules. I would only have gene-

16 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
ral nature, when it has been refined and strained
through the thousand sieves of self-love, ambition,
envy, malice, mischief, design, treachery, falsehood,
and professions, glazed over with perfect ease, good-
breeding, and good-humour, and the passions only
evaporating through invisible pores, but the angles of
the atoms as sharp as needles and mortal as diamond
dust. But how could one describe smiles that assent
away another's favour, or a bow purposely omitted,
and then recollected as designedly to tell a person he
is in disgrace before he knew it himself? Could a
pit or gallery comprehend the importance assumed by
a bedchamber-woman or a page of the back stairs, in
denying some arrant-trifle that was a secret in the
morning and is to be in the " Gazette" at night \
I caught Lady S. t'other night in one of these mys
teries ; it was two nights before Lord Althorpe's match
was owned ; but I had supped at Lord Lucan's with the
whole Court of Spencer, and Lord A. had sat at a side-
table with the two girls, Miss Molesworth and old
Miss Shipley. I knew if I asked directly, I should be
answered, "upon my word / know nothing of the
matter;" so, after supper, sitting by Lady S. on a
settee, I said, " Pray, Lady S., is it owned that Lord A.
is to marry — Miss Shipley1?" She burst out a-laugh-
ing, and could not recompose her face again.
I fear, by your ladyship's account, that Miss Vernon
ought to go abroad ; and, if she ought, surely no time
should be lost. Old Dr. Monro told my father that he
scarce knew anything that asses' milk and change of

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 17
air would not cure, and that it was better to go into a
bad air than not to change it often.
My being confined and idle has made me scribble a
volume about nothing. I hope you will be as de'soeuvre'e
when you are to read it.
Just as I had finished my letter, I learnt the dread
ful calamity that happened at the Opera-house last
night. Don't be alarmed, madam ; not a life is lost—
yet. There was a fire, and it is not yet extinguished.
The theatre was brimful in expectation of Vestris.
At the end of the second act he appeared ; but with
so much grace, agility, and strength, that the whole
audience fell into convulsions of applause : the men
thundered, the ladies, forgetting their delicacy and
weakness, clapped with such vehemence, that seventeen
broke their arms, sixty-nine sprained their wrists, and
three cried bravo ! bravissimo ! so rashly, that they
have not been able to utter so much as no since, any
more than both Houses of Parliament. I do not love
to exaggerate, but the shouts were so loud that they
reached Great Russell-street and terrified Lord Mans
field, who thought the mob was coming again and fled
to Kane Wood ; but, though the true cause was soon
discovered, there is to be a camp in the Mews every
opera night, and nobody suffered to appear there, but
gagged and handcuffed, for really if people are at
liberty to applaud what they approve, there is an end
of all government !
As folks in the country love to hear of London
fashions, know, madam, that the reigning one amongst
VOL. ii. c

18 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
the quality is to go after the opera to the lottery
offices, where their ladyships bet with the keepers.
You choose any number you please ; if it does not
come up next day, you pay five guineas ; if it does,
receive forty, or in proportion to the age of the
tirage. The Duchess of Devonshire in one day won
nine hundred pounds. General Smith, as the luckiest
of all mites, is of the most select parties, and chooses
the numeros.

LETTER CLXXXIX. Christmas Day, 1780.
Though you order me to give you an account of
myself, madam, I shall not obey, for I cannot give you
a good one ; and one is so apt to talk of one's self, and
by the courtesy of self-love to think every trifle of
importance, that I will boldly be out of order if I
please, without being responsible to any one ; no, not
even to a friend.
We have so many enemies, and subdue them so
rapidly, that I did not think it was worth while to
notify to your ladyship the new war with Holland.
Lord Cornwallis, I suppose, will step over and dispatch
it in a parenthesis of six weeks, and still be as likely
as ever to conquer America. Who is to burn Amster
dam I have not yet heard.
Lord Warwick has already sent me John Thorpe's
book, madam, and a most obliging letter. The Ampt
hill is not Houghton-Ampthill, but the individual

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 19
palace that stood in your paddock where the cross is,
and in which Queen Catherine lay, as royal folk did
then, though now they and everybody else only sleep ;
and a spacious and goodly mansion it was. There is
not the elevation, nor of Kirby Hatton, built by the
dancing Chancellor in 1570 ; but there is the ground
plan. I remember wanting to make the last Chan
cellor Bathurst dance at one of Mons. de Guines'
balls. He came thither very drunk, and, as somebody
wished to see the Scotch reel, I proposed that my
Lord Chancellor should dance it.
I am uncommonly glad, madam, that Mr. Coxe is
destined for Mentor to your Telemachus. His Travels
are by far the most sensible of all those late publica
tions, and his principles of the old rock.
Your heroine at Bath, madam, is from the same
quarry in another light, and the counterpart to Cato
himself, who accommodated a friend with his own
wife, for the sake of virtue, and took her again with as
much decorum as possible. Pray read the description
in Lucan, or, if you affect not understanding Latin, in
Rowe ; you will see with what staid gravity those
matters were transacted, when good patriots desponded
about the commonwealth. I have not a Lucan in
town, or would refer you to the spot.
My nieces are indubitably not going abroad, nor do
the duke and duchess think of it. They will be in
town at the end of next month.
Lord Macartney, I hear, is to sail before that time ;
Lady Macartney does not go with him. I remember c2

20 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
what a quarto my last letter was, and restrain this
within bounds.
P.S. I shall not attempt to see Vestris till the
weather is milder, though it is the universal voice that
he is the only perfect being that has dropped from the
clouds within the memory of man or woman ; but
then, indeed, nobody allows memory much retrospect,
lest they should seem old themselves. When the
Parliament meets, he is to be thanked by the Speaker.

LETTER CXC. Berkeley Square, Jan. 2, 1781.
Mercy on the poor men that are to be in love
with Lady Anne, when she comes to maturity of
tyranny ! If she begins already with enjoining such
tasks to her slaves, what will she do in the full career
of her power % The Sphinx was a harmless dicky-bird
in comparison. To send one four Quipos, and only a
hint at an alphabet, and bid one construe four Peruvian
verses, without one's having ever learnt a syllable of
the language, is despotism unparalleled. She might as
well have ordered me to read an Egyptian obelisk, and
tell her what was meant by animals so ill drawn that
they are like nothing in the creation. My penance is
ten times worse ; I am to find out rhymes in colours,
and thoughts in knots, and cadence in a jangle of
orts and ends ! I am a Sybil if I believe that any
being but a lady's chambermaid can understand the

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 21
sense of minced ribands, or discover sentiments in a
salmagundi of black and blue, and red and purple,
and white. A piece of a tippet may be very good
poetry in Lima for aught I know ; and such a genius
as Dryden would soon have written a whole birth- day
gown from as small a sample as Lady Anne has sent
me ; but for my part I cannot unsew a single stitch of
such millinery versification ; and though I will not con
temptuously return such silken lines directly, I despair
of unravelling them, and will only retain them till I
have effile'd them for a whole morning, since it seems
that a mistake in a single shade may occasion a blunder
or perhaps a double entendre.
Your ladyship's new year's wishes are infinitely kind,
though the molti e felici are compliments I can only
accept as I would flowers strewed on my urn. I am
well again ; but my late disorder was, I believe, a little
of the gout in my stomach ; and when once the flaw
begins there, where my only strength lay, it would be
silly not to know how precarious the tenure is.
Never deluding myself on that chapter, you will not
wonder, madam, that I am little qualified to resolve
any questions about the dawn of the next reign. I
attend to what is said about the Prince's family no
more than I should to a prophet, who should offer to
lay before me a vision of the whole next century. Can
I forget that I kissed the hand of this Prince of Wales's
great, great grandfather, the night but one before he
left England for the last time ? and that I was then
ten years old ? Antiquated dukes may hobble into and

22 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
out of golden chariots, if they think their corpses look
well in them — I should not like to lie in state before I
am dead.
Methinks the nation itself is fond of a magnificent
funeral, and chooses to call in all countries to its burial,
or at least to provoke them to dispatch it. Et tu,
Brute : even Holland is to give us a stab. The ele
ments, too, have joined the armed neutrality. What a
catastrophe that of Barbadoes ! yet we are all gaiety,
nay, delighted with the Dutch war. We lose provinces
and islands, and are comforted by barrels of pickled
herrings ! Then, madam, what a brave string of Irish
peers ! they put me in mind of the chain of galley-
slaves in Don Quixote. Like them, I dare swear, their
new lordships would one and all assure one — they are
honest men !
The ancient sovereigns of this isle are come to a
non plus too. The Countess of Albany is retired into
a convent. You know they live at Florence. Last
St. Andrew's day, who is the favourite saint there too,
the count got so beastly drunk, that at night every
filthy consequence ensued. The countess complaining,
he tore her hair and endeavoured to strangle her. Her
screams alarmed the family, and saved her. She pri
vately acquainted the Great Duke, and by his authority
and connivance she contrived to take shelter in a con
vent, declaring she will never return to her husband
again, who has in vain reclaimed her from the Great
Duke. Having nothing better to offer as a new year's gift,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 23
I shall add a nuptial ode that I made for Lady Lucan.
It would be presumption to hope it, but if Lady Anne
would be so good as to translate it into a wisp of
party-coloured silk, and stuff a pincushion with it, I
should flatter myself with my work being immortal
i.
Hymen, O Hymenase !
To Althorpe and Bingham
Ye bards, come and sing 'em,
And all the bells ring 'em,
With ding, ding, a dong.
ii.
To Althorpe and Bingham
But pray do not ding 'em
With this or that thingum,
That may call up in Bingham
A blush all day long.
in.
Your best wishes bring 'em,
Your best roses fling 'em
O'er the hammock, where Bingham
And Althorpe shall swing 'em,
With ding, ding, a dong.
P. S. I am sorry to add so serious a P.S., as that
poor Lady Foley died this morning.

LETTER CXCI. Jan. 4, 1781.
I return the Quipos, madam, because if I retained
them till I understand them, I fear you would never
have them again. I should as soon be able" to hold
a dialogue with a rainbow, by the help of its grammar,
a prism, for I have not yet discovered which is the

24 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
first or last verse of four lines that hang like ropes
of onions. Yet it is not for want of study, or want
of respect for the Peruvian manner of writing. I per
ceive it is a very soft language, and, though at first
I tangled the poem and spoiled the rhymes, yet I can
conceive that a harlequin's jacket, artfully arranged
by a princess of the blood of Mango Capac, may
contain a deep tragedy, and that a tawdry trimming
may be a version of Solomon's Song. Nay, I can
already say my alphabet of six colours, and know that
each stands indiscriminately but for four letters, which
gives the Peruvian a great advantage over the Hebrew
tongue, in which the total want of vowels left every
word at the mercy of the reader ; and, though our
salvation depended upon it, we did not know precisely
what any word signified, till the invention of points,
that were not used till the language had been obsolete
for some thousands of years. A little uncertainty, as
where one has but one letter instead of four, may give
rise to many beauties. Puns must be greatly assisted
by that ambiguity, and the delicacies of the language
may depend on an almost imperceptible variation in
the shades, as the perfection of the Chinese consists in
possessing but very few syllables, each of which admits
ten thousand accents, and thence pronunciation is the
most difficult part of their literature.
At first sight, the resemblance of blue and green
by candlelight seems to be an objection to the Peru
vian ; but any learned mercer might obviate that,
by opposing indigo to grass-green, and ultra-marine

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 25
to verd de pomme. The more expert one were at
nuances, the more poetic one should be, or the more
eloquent. A vermilion A must denote a weaker
accent, or even passion, than one of carmine and
crimson ; and a straw-colour U be much more tender
than one approaching to orange.
I have heard of a French perfumer who wrote an
essay on the harmony of essences. Why should not
that idea be extended 1 The Peruvian Quipos adapted
a language to the eyes, rather than to the ears. Why
should not there be one for the nose 1 The more
the senses can be used indifferently for each other,
the more our understandings would be enlarged. A
rose, jessamine, a pink, a jonquil, and a honeysuckle,
might signify the vowels ; the consonants to be repre
sented by other flowers. The Cape jessamine, which
has two smells, was born a diphthong. How charming
it would be to smell an ode from a nosegay, and to
scent one's handkerchief with a favourite song ! In
deed, many improvements might be made on the
Quipos themselves, especially as they might be worn,
as well as perused. A trimming set on a new lute
string would be equivalent to a second edition with
corrections. I am only surprised that, in a country
like Peru, where gold and silver thread were so cheap,
there was no clinquant introduced into their poetry.
In short, madam, I am so pleased with the idea of
knotting verses, which is vastly preferable to anagrams
and acrostics, that if I were to begin life again, I
would use a shuttle, instead of a pen, and write verses

26 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
by the yard. As it is, I have not been idle ; nay, like
any heaven-born genius, I have begun to write before
I can read ; and, though I have not yet learned to
decypher, I can at least cypher like Atahualpa himself.
As a proof of my proficience, pray, madam, construe
the following colours : —
Brown, blue, white, yellow green yellow yellow
white, red brown brown blue white.
As I was writing this last line, I received your
ladyship's interpretation of the verses. Whoever made
them they are excellent, and it would have been
cruel to deprive me of them, till I could have un
ravelled them. Pray tell me who made them, for
they are really good and sterling. I am sorry I ex
pressed myself so awkwardly that you thought I dis
approved of the Quipos. On the contrary, you see
how much they have amused me. In good truth, I
was glad of anything that would occupy me, and turn
my attention from all the horrors one hears or ap
prehends. I am sorry I have read the devastation
of Barbadoes and Jamaica, &c, &c. ; when one can
do no good, can neither prevent nor redress, nor
has any personal share, by one's self or one's friends,
is it not excusable to steep one's attention in any
thing 1 I fear, madam, you and Lord Ossory have a
suffering friend ! poor Mr. James, I hear, is totally
ruined — his whole property swept away! There is
another dreadful history, less known : the expedition
sent against the Spanish settlement is cut off by the
climate, and not a single being is left alive. The

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 27
Duchess of Bedford told me last night that the poor
soldiers were so averse, that they were driven to the
march by the point of the bayonet, and that, besides
the men, twenty-five officers have perished.
Lord Cornwallis and his tiny army are scarce in a
more prosperous way. On this dismal canvas a fourth
war is embroidered ; and what, I think, threatens still
more, the French administration is changed and likely
to be composed of more active men, and much more
hostile to England. Our ruin seems to me inevi
table. Nay, I know those who smile in the drawing-
room, that groan by their fire-side : they own we have
no more men to send to America, and think our credit
almost as nearly exhausted. Can you wonder, then,
madam, if I am glad to play with Quipos — Oh, no !
nor can I be sorry to be on the verge — does one wish
to live to weep over the ruins of Carthage 1

LETTER CXCII. Jan. 9, 1781.
Your ladyship takes so kind a part in all that
concerns me, that, though I could not have told you how
thunderstruck I was yesterday with news of the loss of
Jersey, and alarmed for General Conway, who was but
two hours in town, and had not time to see me, and
set out with a broken arm not quite recovered, yet I
must communicate the sudden transition to joy, and
relief from the worst part of my alarm. The" troops in

28 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Jersey made a stand, gained a complete victory, and
took all the remaining French that had landed, prisoners.
Mr. Conway, I conclude, will proceed, and thank his
little army, who, without detracting from their merit,
certainly owe some of it to his discipline — well,
madam, je respire ! These rapid revulsions are a little
too much for such harassed nerves as mine — but you
forbid me — and I am silent.
I received two packets from your ladyship last
night, and at almost any other moment should have
enjoyed them. I can now go over them again, and
with pleasure, except the article of Miss Vernon.
Your picture of her is very alarming — I tremble for
your ladyship, and for her brothers and sisters ! — but
alarms of every kind will be the lot of all that have
any feeling for some time ; and even hearts of rock
will groan at last, for gold lies in the hearts of those
rocks, and is as sensitive as the most shattered nerves.
Nor will ducal coronets or portraits of Lord and Lady
Spencer console them, if the mines of ore and diamonds
are swept away. I had not heard that anecdote of
Cunningham. It is one of those traits, that whatever
is said of comedy, nay, of the exaggeration of farce,
would be too strong for the stage. The bombast pas
sion of a lover in a romance might be carried to such
an excess ; but a governor writing on the ruins of a
whole island levelled by the most fatal of all hurricanes,
that his chief misery was the loss of — what % — his
bracelets with the portraits of his idols— who would
dare to bring such a revolting hyperbole on the stage ?

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 29
Excuse me, madam, but I do believe there is a great
flaw in my memory ; I cannot recollect what you
allude to by pigs. Pray tell me, and which you have
not done, the author or authoress of the verses on the
Quipos. The explication of mine is, if I cyphered it
right, je vous aime. Perhaps I ought to have told
you it was French.
Somebody knocks, I must finish ; but it is not
necessary to make excuses for short letters, when I
so often send you such long ones. It was Mr. Cam
bridge to ask news of Jersey, and to trumpet a victory
of Carleton the Lord knows where, at t'other end of
the world ; I neither satisfied his curiosity, nor listened
to his gazette.
P.S. Mr. Craufurd has called on me, too, and tells
me Mr. James's loss will be but about 15,000£, and
that he can bear it ; but the Storers are totally un
done, and so George Selwyn says too. I pity them !
I forgot to tell your ladyship that I met Mrs. Mon
tagu t'other night at a visit. She said she had been
alone the whole preceding day, quite hermetically
sealed — I was very glad she was uncorked, or I might
have missed that piece of learned nonsense !

LETTER CXCIII. Berkeley Square, Jan. 14, 1781.
I beg we may correspond no more in Peruvian,
madam, for it would take less time to send our letters

30 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
to Lima to be interpreted, than to decypher three
words. I return the alphabet, and humbly hope you
had forgotten your ABC, for the words as I read
them are, on vous aimons, which so good a gram
marian as your ladyship could not have written, if
you remembered your colours ; unless, which is much
more probable, I have not expounded them rightly,
for I certainly have no genius for so brocaded a lan
guage, which is like a piece of silk, all confusion, till it
is unfolded. I will tell you what is of more impor
tance. I asked the Duchess of Bedford t'other night
at Princess Amelie's how she found Miss Vernon %
" Oh," said she, " I never saw her look so pretty ;
the journey had given her a charming colour." Dr.
Warren was with her three times yesterday, and says,
" if she does not go to three assemblies in an evening,
she will be very well." In truth, I do not much
depend on this account ; the glow might be hectic,
and three visits in one day did not sound well ; and,
besides, her grace is apt to see everything couleur de
rose, still I think your own tenderness made you think
her worse than she may be — I hope so.
You have seen Mr. Fox's combat with highwaymen
in the papers ; at first I concluded they were not high
waymen, but Highlanders, and that Messrs. Adam and
Fullerton were- ambitious of farther preferment.
I know nothing farther of Jersey, so contrary is the
wind ; nor anything else, but that Lord Carlisle is
laid up with the gout.
Your ladyship's history of Mr. Whitbread the brewer

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 31
and his insolent wealth, came very apropos to what
the princess said t'other night. She was talking of the
crew of Irish peers, and said to the Duchess of Bed
ford, " I would not give a straw to be a peer in this
country — no, give me a good brewhouse ; that is what
makes one considerable here." I doubt, if we brew
as we bake, nothing will make us considerable long !
May not I ask, madam, if you do not begin to
think of London 1 Shall not Lady Anne learn of
Vestris, while you have a shilling left % Pray let her
be fit to make a courtesy like a christian, in case the
French should land. You will really keep her and
yourself in the country till you will feel for your
friends that are undone by hurricanes, or till you
lament the war with Holland, though you might have
a share in a privateer, and though John St. John has
a contract for furnishing us with play-thing coaches,
that are neater than the Dutch ones, and as cheap as
Mr. Atkinson's rum. Do but come to town, and you
will not have a fear or a care left. The serene house
of Brudenel will steep your senses and feelings in a
delicious lethargy, and you will see everything through
an eternal mist, as the Scotch do, and which they call
second sight, not having the first gift of sight, which
is to see things as they are.
I was much diverted with your setting Mrs. Mon
tagu on her head, which indeed she does herself with
out the help of Hermes. She is one of my principal
entertainments at Mrs. Vesey's, who collects all the
graduates and candidates for fame, where they vie

32 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
with one another, till they are as unintelligible as the
good folks at Babel. I am again interrupted — all one's
letters, one's time, one's occupations are cracked by
alarms ! Colonel Conway is just arrived ; his uncle
and he were overtaken, nay, sailed in a tempest ; they
saw a transport with sixty poor men perish, and fear
the cutter, that preceded to notify their arriving to
Jersey, is lost. The Emerald was tossed for two days
and nights, and General Conway's broken arm was
hurt ; Captain Marshal, a stout sailor, gave them up,
the sailors were lashed, or could not stand to their
work ; the wind changed providentially, or they were
lost on the rocks, and carried them to Plymouth,
where the Conways landed : Colonel Conway found
his wife miscarrying. Oh ! I could fill my paper
with distresses ; but the Parliament will meet in two
or three days, and vote that we are all felicity and
glory ! General Conway is stopped at Park Place to
cure his bruises, as his island is safe — I have not time
to say more. Monday.
Colonel Conway was with me an hour this morn
ing, and has given me such an account of their voyage,
as makes me shudder ; and I have since received a
note from Lady Ailesbury, to tell me her husband
is in bed with the rheumatism and fatigue, but I fear
with his arm, for his nephew says it was very painful
to him, though neither the pain nor their peril made
the smallest impression on his calmness, which asto
nished even his nephew, who knows him. Thank

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 33
God he is alive ! It is a time to feel any blessing to
one's-self, when so many are in anguish !

LETTER CXC1V. Berkeley Square, Jan. 25, 1781.
You know I never pretend to continue my ga
zette, madam, when Lord Ossory is in town. I can
only send the dried skin of news, and he can give you
the marrow. He was so good as to sit with me two
hours yesterday morning.
I certainly do love, and have for forty years loved
General Conway as my dearest friend, and conse
quently am very uneasy about him. He is extremely
out of order still ; and had I not been deceived about
him on his return, and if I did not every day expect
him to be brought to town, I should have gone to him.
I am now waiting for the post, which I hope will
bring me a more satisfactory account.
My gaming losses, madam, have been trifling, and
my luck, as usual, fluctuating, so as to make very
little difference. Still I do not decline the purse,
which I shall value, though it should not have an
enriching virtue.
I have seen Vestris, and remain in my senses.

VOL. II.

34 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CXCV.
Berkeley Square. Jan. 31, at night, 1781.
It is not to save myself, I assure your ladyship,
that I decline writing when Lord Ossory is in town.
I do write when he is not, because I am aware that
any intelligence, that is not quite bad, and that takes
care not to be false, is acceptable in the country.
But when our lord is here, and hears all that passes
in Parliament, and at Brookes's, how chilled must
sound the little that I learn in my own room, or in
the small circle to which my acquaintance is reduced,
or to which I have reduced it ! I go little into the
fashionable world, and less among politicians of either
side ; and to no public places : and of the young
world, except of my own family, I determine to know
nothing ; or, if I cannot help it, to say nothing. One
of the reigning topics (I have improperly used almost
a treasonable word), is the Prince of Wales. With
him I am positive never to occupy myself. I kissed
the hand of his great great grandfather ; would not it
be preposterous to tap a volume of future history, of
which I can never see but the first pages 1 I am sen
sible that those persons are happier, who do not feel
what is improper for their age ; but having always had
a horror for juvenile ancientry, I will not make an ex
ception in my own favour ; nor should have any com
fort in it. It is an absurd saying, that none know
themselves ; what the deuce then do they know % Do

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 35
they think they bound, when they totter, or mistake
wrinkles for beauty, and want of memory for thought
lessness ?
I have had another cause of silence, too, madam ;
I have been at Park Place to see General Conway. I
suspected he was worse than I was told, and found he
had been much worse than I suspected. He still has
fever, and still rheumatism; his hands are swelled,
and his face and legs emaciated ; nor has he yet been
out of his bedchamber. In short, he is much broken
and I doubt will be long before he recovers his
strength. I came back but to-day to attend the
princess, and know absolutely nothing. I believe
there is nothing new, for the Duchess of Bedford was
there. Oh ! yes, Captain Waldegrave has taken some
rich Dutch prizes, for which I am very glad, as I like
him much, and his cousins love him extremely.
Thank your ladyship for the account of Sir Walter
Raleigh's and his wife's pictures, but I shall not med
dle with them. I have neither room nor money for
more purchases. The stocks are so terribly fallen,
that what trifles I had saved from myself for others,
would not now pay the legacies I have given ; and I
must endeavour, if I live, to hoard the deficiency.
This is an uncomfortable reflection, but who that re
flects, has not some such to make ? The nation, like
a great boy, does not allow itself a moment's thought.
It engages every day to support new wars, though it
cannot manage one of them ; ere long, to use the
sublime nonsense of a secretary of state, it will be
D 2

36 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
stunned into its senses ; but what good will its senses
do then % This was a letter of obedience, but, I fear,
ill-conducted to enliven your solitude.

LETTER CXCVI. Strawberry Hill, June 13, 1781.
The beauty-room, madam, is the yellow bed
chamber hung with Jarvis's small copies of Sir Peter
Lely's beauties, which chamber is on the ground-floor
here, next to the little parlour. I placed your screen
their pour cause, and because it accords with the chim
ney-piece, which is black and yellow. Had it inhabit
ed the blue room, in which I chiefly live, it would not
have lasted even my time. In Berkeley-square it
would have looked as if in disgrace and in exile ; just
as French Ministers, when under a cloud, feel miserable,
though suffered to dwell in Paris itself, if not per
mitted into the heaven of heavens Versailles.
Mr. Storer has just left me ; I have shewed him
such hosts of portraits of the dead, that if he retains
their names, he would make a good Vice Chamberlain
to Proserpine on a birth-night, if there was any such
fSte in the shades below ; but as ceremonies are of the
essence of all courts, I suppose there they keep death-
nights, and then he will be more at home in a ball
room than even Lord Brudenel.
I direct this to Grosvenor Place, for though you
named to-day for your leaving town, nobody sets out

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 37
at the time they intended. I shall be obliged to go
thither oftener than I wish. When your ladyship
found me at the Grove, it was to inform Mr. Morrice
that Lord Orford has named me and Mr. Skrine to be
referees with him to compromise my lord's claims on
Cav. Mozzi for money due from my lord's mother. I
do not admire the pursuit of that claim, and tried to
avoid being employed in it ; but, though cast off when
I am of no use, they come to me when any drudgery
is to be done.
I have been reading a book as heterogeneous from
my pursuits as Mr. Storer's new profession from his —
Mr. Beckford's on Hunting ; and as I always reckon
that any book pays me in which I find one passage
that pleases me or tells me something new (I mean
that I care to learn, for as to novelty, every book of
science could tell me what I don't know), I found one
jewel in Mr. Beckford's, for which I would have perused
a folio. His huntsman christened one of his hounds,
Lyman. "Lyman!" said the squire ; "why, James,
what does Lyman mean?" " Lord, sir," said James,
"what does anything mean?" I am transported with
James's good sense and philosophy. It comforts me for
all the books of science which I do not understand,
and is an answer to all the pretended knowledge upon
earth, and if Mr. Beckford were a classic (as he will
be one to those who know of none), I would change
my motto of Fari quce sentiat for, What does anything
mean % as more expressive of quce sentio. I have gone
through Sir R. Worsley's " Isle of Wight," which is in

38 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
my own way, and yet, alas ! I did not find one diamond
in that dunghill — no, James for my money !

LETTER CXCVII.
Strawberry Hill, June 20, 1781.
I shall not be able to wait on your ladyship yet,
for my niece Lady Maria, who has had a bad cold that
has turned to a cough, is coming to me for the air. I
expect Mr. Mason, too, who has long promised me a
visit. If unengaged, I should be very glad to meet the
company you propose to me ; not that I want ad
ditional allurements to Ampthill.
It is not common for me, madam, to send you news
from court, or to contradict what is said to be trans
acting there ; but for once I will be important — only
because I have nothing more insignificant to tell you.
Be assured, therefore, that the emperor is not going to
marry the princess royal. I have been at the Pavilions
this evening with the duke and duchess : his royal
highness is already returned from his extempore jaunt
to Brussels, and has not settled the marriage-articles.
If his highness has retained Caesar in our pay, like his
ancestor Maximilian, it is more than I am at liberty to
disclose. I dare go no further than to advise you not
to buy into the stocks upon that presumption. Mr.
Wraxall may be more explicit, even in the House of
Commons, though he knows no more of it than I do.
However, I should not like to be thought totally ig-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 39
norant, as I observe the depth of politics in the present
times is to seem to know the contrary of all that is
true — yet why should I affect more honours than I
enjoy ? Do not they seek me in my humble cell ?
Do not I want all my philosophy to combat the fumes
of pride ? — In a word, Princess Sophia has invited Ton-
ton to the pavilions ; and will it be believed, I have con
sented to carry him? How weak is mortal man ! That
I should live to let my dog be a courtier! I do not
know how others feel on such occasions, but for my
part I cannot act this renegade part with an unem
barrassed countenance. I tremble lest Mr. Fox should
write a note to record my fall in my royal and noble
authors, where my Whiggism is the most apparent.
My father is reported to have said that every man has
his price. You see, madam, my dog was my vulner
able part. I have resisted bribes for myself — I was not
proof against honours for Tonton. Do not give me
quite up, dear lady. Make it your own case ; if
Prince Octavius was to offer Lady Gertrude his hand
and his rattle, could you find in your heart to refuse
your consent ? I will quit this tender subject, and tell
you an anecdote, that you will have as much difficulty
to believe as if it was in the " Gazette."
A few evenings ago I was invited by the old Lady
Fitzwilliam at Richmond to see some pictures and
Japan that were her father's, Sir Matthew Decker. I
asked her if she had ever happened to hear a ridicu
lous story that I had been told in my youth, and
which I concluded had only been a joke. It was, that

40 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Sir John Germaine, Lady Betty's husband, had been so
exceedingly ignorant that he believed his countryman,
Sir Matthew (they were both Dutch) was author of
" St. Matthew's Gospel." She replied directly, " it is
so true, that Sir John had thence conceived such a
reverence for my father's piety, that he left him 2001
to be distributed amongst poor Dutch ? " Now, ma
dam, what story is improbable after this ? Nor is it
possible to add anything after it.

LETTER CXCVIII. Strawberry Hill, July 4, 1781.
I every day grow too wary, madam, to dip myself
in promises of visits at the least distance of place or
time, and expect to make few more, so little I can
depend on my health, though for the last six months it
has been very flourishing; but at present it has pulled
me by the sleeve, or rather by the knee, where I have
got the rheumatism by putting on thinner stockings on
sultry Saturday, and sauntering in the dew till between
nine and ten. I thought it would have obliged me to
receive on my couch a stately visit yesterday from the
upright Dowager of Beaufort and Lady Betty Compton,
who breakfasted with me ; and as everybody is a
candidate for the latter's hand, it would have been
mortifying to be lame when I had so fair an opportu
nity of entering the lists. However, I made shift to
go through every room of the house, and should not

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 41
have despaired, if, unluckily, Lady Hertford had not
proposed to go to the chapel in the garden, which
reduced me to use my stick, and I doubt left the prize
still to be contended for by Lord George Cavendish,
Lord Fairford, and my great nephew, Cholmondeley,
who, I hear, t'other day forgot himself, and squeezed
the mother's hand instead of the daughter's. Oh !
what consequences might have ensued, had such a fit
of absence seized him with another Duchess Dowager
of B !
My niece left me last night quite recovered. Her
sisters fetched her away ; Captain Waldegrave came to
us the evening before and returned with them. He is
fallen away, and shews how hard his service has been.
In short, all one sees and hears from the Return is
a tale of distresses beyond belief ! T'other day I was
told of a letter from an officer in the victorious army
of the conqueror Cornwallis, which said, — " I expect
to date my next from the prison at Boston ! "
Did your ladyship hear of a Prince Sulkowski, who
was lately in England ? He was competitor with the
present king for the crown of Poland, is hideous, and
covered with brilliants. George Selwyn said he had
never before seen a monster set in diamonds. This
opulent Palatine came about a fortnight ago, with his
reine manquSe to see Strawberry, and was admitted
without a ticket, as all foreigners are. I was not here ;
he left a card with all his titles, as Prince of Thiski,
Duke of Thatski, &c, to thank me in the name of all
Europe for the free ingress of strangers. It seems the

42 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
part of his revenues in specie (for it would be cum
bersome to a give handful of peasants to every house
keeper) is rigidly economic (unless you reckon the list
of titles on his cards); on Margaret he bestowed four
and sixpence, having appropriated but five shillings to
this visit, of which, prudently reflecting that he might
be overturned or lose a wheel, he retained one six
pence ; however, being asked, like the Duchess of
Beaufort, to visit the chapel, he surmounted his sage
reserve, and generously conferred that sixpence on the
gardener !
The Crown of Poland, venal twice an age,
To just three millions stinted modest Gage.
I suppose it is cheaper since the partition.
I do not in the least know who Perlin was that
wrote travels, of which it is necessary to unriddle the
names. Pray tell me who he was, and as I suppose he
lived ages ago, what he expended on concierges. Lord
Ossory shall certainly have Hentzner,* and as soon as
he pleases, if your ladyship will tell me how to send
him. Do not be afraid, you shall not be plagued with
Tonton, though I assure you he has a very decent
privy purse for his travels ; but I recollect that my
uncle Horace used to say that Mademoiselle Furniture
does not love dogs ; which makes me allow Tonton
handsomely, that he may silence such tattling house
keepers as Margaret.
* Paul Hentzner's Journey in England in the year 1598, now in my
possession, printed at Strawberry Hill. — En.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 43

LETTER CXCIX.
Strawberry Hill, July 7, 1781.
You must be, or will be, tired of my letters,
madam, every one is a contradiction to the last ; there
is alternately a layer of complaints, and a layer of
foolish spirits. To-day the wind is again in the
dolorous corner. For these four days I have been
confined with a pain and swelling in my face. The
apothecary says it is owing to the long drought ; but
as I should not eat grass were there ever such plenty,
and as my cows, though starving, have no swelled
cheeks, I do not believe him. I humbly attribute my
frequent disorders to my longevity, and to that Proteus
the gout, who is not the less himself for being incog.
Excuses I have worn out, and, therefore, will not make
any for not obeying your kind invitation again to Ampt
hill. I can only say, I go nowhere, even where Tonton
is invited — except to balls — and yet though I am the
last Vestris that has appeared, Mrs. Hobart did not
invite me to her sans souci last week, though she had
all my other juvenile contemporaries, Lady Berkeley,
Lady Fitzroy, Lady Margaret Compton, and Mrs.
French, &c. Perhaps you do not know that the lady
of the fSte, having made as many conquests as the
King of Prussia, has borrowed the name of that hero's
villa for her hut on Ham Common, where she has
built two large rooms of timber under a cabbage.
Her field officers, General French, General Compton,

44 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
&c, were sweltered in the ball-room, and then frozen
at supper in tents on the grass. She herself, as in
trepid as King Frederic, led the ball, though dying of
the toothache, which she had endeavoured to drown in
laudanum ; but she has kept her bed ever since the
campaign ended.
This is all I know in the world, for the war seems
to have taken laudanum too, and to keep its bed.
I have received a letter to-day from Sir Horace
Mann, who tells me the great duke has been making
wondrous improvements at Florence. He has made a
passage through the tribune, and built a brave new
French room of stucco in white and gold, and placed
the Niobe in it ; but as everybody is tired of her telling
her old story, she and all the Master and Miss Niobes
are orderly disposed round the chamber, and if any
body asks who they are, I suppose they answer, Francis
Charles Ferdinand Ignatius Neopomucenus, or Maria
Theresa Christina Beatrice, &c. Well, madam, have
I any cause to sigh that the pictures at Houghton are
transported to the North Pole, if the Tribune at Flo
rence is demolished by Vandals, and Niobe and her
progeny dance a cotillon f 0 sublunary grandeur,
short-lived as a butter-fly ! We smile at a clown who
graves the initials of his name or the shape of his shoe
on the leads of a church, in hopes of being remembered,
and yet he is as much known as king I don't know
whom, who built the Pyramids to eternize his memory.
Methinks Anacreon was the only sensible philosopher.
If I loved wine, and should look well in a chaplet of

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 45
roses, I would crown myself with flowers, and go drunk
to bed every night sans souci.

LETTER CC.
Strawberry Hill, July 17, 1781.
I did not mean, madam, that I should be confined
to London till Lord Orford's business is settled ; if I
did say so, I expressed myself ill, as I wrote in a great
hurry. On the contrary, as Mr. Morrice is so much
nearer to me, I believe our meetings will be at the
Grove, unless when necessary to go to town to see the
lawyers, who have not yet given in the respective claims
for which we are waiting. Cavalier Mozzi has com
plained so much of delays, that I did not care to be out
of the way and have any imputed to me. Indeed, at
present, it is impossible for me to stir; Lady Ailes-
bury comes to me to-morrow, and I am still so lame
with my rheumatism, that it is near three weeks that I
have not been round my own garden. Your ladyship
and Lord Ossory are very kind to think on me, but I
am grown such old lumber, as to be fit for nothing but
a garret. Were I as young as my brother, who is
eleven years older, I might be amusing. I sat in ad
miration of his spirits and humour for two hours the
other night, when I was scarce able to open my lips.
He described having been to see his new house at
Isleworth, after not having been out of his own doors
since April twelvemonth. He said he was so surprised

46 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
himself, that he could not believe he was there, and
asked who that was, and that they assured him it was
he himself. For my part, I shall sooner take myself for
nobody, than for anybody else ; perhaps when I am a
ghost, I shall take myself for something, and walk at
Ampthill, and even Lady Gertrude will not be fright
ened, as I shall be very little less than I am.

LETTER CCI.

Strawberry Hill, July 25, 1781.
Poor human nature, what a contradiction it is !
to-day it is all rheumatism and morality, and sits with
a death's head before it : tomorrow it is dancing ! — Oh !
my lady, my lady, what will you say, when the next
thing you hear of me after my last letter is, that I
have danced three country-dances with a whole set,
forty years younger than myself ! Shall not you think
I have been chopped to shreds and boiled in Medea's
kettle 1 Shall not you expect to see a print of Vestris
teaching me ?— -and Lord Brudenell dying with envy ?
You may stare with all your expressive eyes, yet the
fact is true. Danced — I do not absolutely say,
danced — but I swam down three dances very grace
fully, with the air that was so much in fashion after
the battle of Oudenarde, and that was still taught
when I was fifteen, and that I remember General
Churchill practising before a glass in a gouty shoe.
To be sure you die with impatience to know the

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 47
particulars. You must know then — for all my revels
must out — I not only went five miles to Lady Ayles-
ford's ball last Friday, but my nieces the Waldegraves,
desired me there to let them come to me for a few
days, as they had been disappointed about a visit they
were to make at another place ; but that is neither
here nor there. Well, here they are, and last night we
went to Lady Hertford at Ditton. Soon after, Lady
North and her daughters arrived, and besides Lady
Elizabeth and Lady Bel Conways, there were their
brothers Hugh and George. All the jeunesse strolled
about the garden. We ancients, with the Earl and
Colonel Keene, retired from the dew into the drawing-
room. Soon after the two youths and seven nymphs
came in, and shut the door of the hall. In a moment
we heard a burst of laughter, and thought we distin
guished something like the scraping of a fiddle. My
curiosity was raised, I opened the door and found four
couples and a half standing up, and a miserable violin
from the ale-house. Oh, said I, Lady Bel shall not
want a partner ; I threw away my stick, and me voild
dansant comme un charme ! At the end of the third
dance, Lord North and his son, in boots, arrived.
Come, said I, my lord, you may dance, if I have — but
it ended in my resigning my place to his son.
Lady North has invited us for to-morrow, and I
shall reserve the rest of my letter for the second
volume of my regeneration ; however, I declare I will
not dance. I will not make myself too cheap ; I should
have the Prince of Wales sending for me three or four

48 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
times a week to hops in Eastcheap. As it is, I feel I
shall have some difficulty to return to my old dowagers,
at the Duchess of Montrose's, and shall be humming
the Hempdressers ; when they are scolding me for play
ing in flush. Friday, the 27th.
I am not only a prophet, but have more command
of my passions than such impetuous gentry as prophets
are apt to have. We found the fiddles as I foretold ;
and yet I kept my resolution and did not dance, though
the Syrens invited me, and though it would have
shocked the dignity of old Tiffany Ellis, who would
have thought it an indecorum. The two younger
Norths and Sir Ralph Payne supplied my place. I
played at cribbage with the matrons, and we came
away at midnight. So if I now and then do cut a colt's
tooth, I have it drawn immediately. I do not know a
paragraph of news — the nearer the minister, the farther
from politics.
P. S. My next jubilee dancing shall be with Lady
Gertrude.

LETTER CC1I. Strawberry Hill, Sep. 4, 1781.
I am sorry your ladyship is so like Dr. Johnson as
not to understand the Grecian graces of odes, but to
require them to be indited in as Dunstable prose as a
bill in Chancery. Do you think as he does, that prose
only should be encumbered with learning and a hash

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 49
of languages, and that poetry should be as plain as the
horn-book ? I believe I could expound all your lady
ship's difficulties in Mr. Jones's ode if you had specified
them. Curled smiles, the sole instance you produce,
is not so beautiful as the next expression, the bubbling
tear ; but is very intelligible to any one who has seen
an angel of Correggio, whose mouth is generally curled
into a crescent, and in truth I think strains grace into
almost a grimace. The clan of Howes would certainly
have been more profuse on the transcendent qualities
of their sovereign lady ; but I believe Mr. Jones is not
so zealous an idolater at that shrine. However, if the
ode is not perfect, still the eighth, ninth, and tenth
stanzas have merit enough to shock Dr. Johnson and
such sycophant old nurses, and that is enough for me.
How precious is any line of Demosthenes that offended
King Philip and the whole Court of Macedon !
Your other question, madam, of who was Lady
Elizabeth Thimbleby, I cannot so well resolve : I only
guess that she was no relation of that Maid of Honour
of Queen Elizabeth, who died by pricking her finger
with a needle.
The library I have read. There are some pretty
lines and easy verses ; but it is too long. One thought
is charming, that a dog, though a flatterer, is still a
friend. It made me give Tonton a warm kiss, and
swear it was true.
I have heard of Lady Derby's imperial conquest ; nor
should I wonder if her mother was immediately to
transport her own rags of beauty to Vienna, since
VOL. II. E

50 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
there is a monarch that can take up with remnants of
charms, that indeed never were very charming.
I direct this to Ampthill, as you name no day for
quitting it ; yet if you have any remains of fever, you
cannot change the air too soon. I have had a letter
from Mr. Morrice, who tells me that he has received
some of our judicial papers, but cannot open them, as
he has been confined to his bed ten days by the gout.
I should have said that it was only a note by another
hand. Mine still writes with difficulty, though almost
well ; but having replied to your ladyship's queries,
and having nothing new to tell you, it shall take its
leave.

LETTER CCIII.
Wednesday night, Sept. 12, 1781.
I would not answer your last, madam, till I could
tell you something on better authority than my own —
yet that something is but another's conjecture. I have
been at Ditton this evening, where Lord Hertford told
me that he thinks the combined fleets are retired. A
neutral ship has met them sailing westward ; and it is
hoped they have suffered by a storm — this is war ! One
sits at home coolly hoping that five or six vessels full of
many hundreds of men are gone to the bottom of the
deep ! Can one look back on the last six years and
not shudder at the devastation deliberate love of power
has committed— to the utter loss of power ! The fleets
have been seen off Kingsale ; but Lord H. could not be

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 51
easy if he expected any attempt upon Ireland. He
flatters himself the Czarina will make peace for us, but
she must first make us make peace. As to any land
ing here, it has not been apprehended. The enemies
have no transports with them ; but indeed we have no
intelligence neither. They have landed on Minorca,
and General Murray's wife and family, with other
Englishwomen, have escaped to Leghorn. It must have
been a shocking separation ! There is little chance, I
believe, of the islands being saved. We shall be pared
to the quick, while we are dreaming of recovering
America; we might as sensibly pursue pur claim to
the crown of France. Have you seen this epigram,
which, for aught I know, may have been in the news
papers 1 Oh England, no wonder your troubles begin,
When blockaded without, and blockheaded within.
I am glad I have been a physical prophet, madam,
and that change of air has cured your fever.
I have met Miss Lloyd at Lady Di.'s. She is super
latively inflated with the odours that flowed from the
emperor on her and Lady Clermont. "We sat round
him, and he put us quite at our ease." He would not
have put me so, said I ; I have seen a good deal of
princes in my day, and always found, that if they put
themselves at their ease, they did not at all like that
I should put myself so. I demurred too to the great
admiration ; I remember when the Lady Clermonts
of that time wept for the departure of the Duke of
Lorrain, the late emperor, and yet he proved an oaf.
e2

52 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
This man announces too much ; we shall see. Then
came the archduchess, and then Duke Albert. " You
know he is to be inaugurated four times." God forbid
I should know it, said I. I should be sorry to know
how often a German prince is to go through a cere
mony. The Duke of Richmond told me a much
better story, a sequel to the Duchess of Chandos's
history, which you have heard, how she proposed
the princess-royal to the emperor. Mr. Fitzherbert
told her he had heard of a great marriage on foot.
Her grace was mysterious — what match ? He told
her. " Why, surely," replied she, " the emperor has
not divulged it yet ! I really beg your pardon, Mr.
Fitzherbert, for interfering in your province, but I will
make you all the amends I can : I shall certainly be
appointed to conduct the princess to Vienna, and I
will ask for you to accompany us."
I have at last received all (I shall ever have) of
Madame du Deffand's papers. All, I know, there are
not, for I miss some ; but there are some very curious,
and some of her own dear writing, admirable.
I have made some purchases, too, at Mr. Sheldon's,
very cheap indeed, and shall go to town on Friday to
see them. I have made a gold-fishpond, too ; in short,
I am as busy and trifling as if I were still lord of the
ocean : I do not know, but I may soon go a-hunting
in a white hat lined with green. Your ladyship, I
suppose, goes a-shooting, in the absence of Lord
Ossory, lest the pheasants and partridges should think
you are alarmed. It is the modern way; we souse

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 53
into diversions to conceal our panics. All the water
ing-places are thronged ; one would think this was the
most unhealthy country in Europe. On the contrary,
this proves it is the most healthy, for nineteen go to
amuse themselves, for one that goes for illness. Mercy
on us ! how we shall stare, if ever we come to our
senses again !
P. S. Lady Mary Coke has had an hundred dis
tresses abroad, that do not weigh a silver penny alto
gether. She is like Don Quixote, who went in search
of adventures, and when he found none imagined
them. She went to Brussels, to see the archduchess,
but either had bad intelligence or the archduchess
very good, for she was gone when Lady Mary arrived ;
so was the packet-boat at Ostend, which she believes
was sent away on purpose, by a codicil in the empress
queen's will.
You must get some standard pomegranates, madam.
I have one now in this room, above five feet high, in a
pot, in full blow. At Paris, they mix them with their
orange-trees.

LETTER CCIV.

Strawberry Hill, Oct. 7, 1781.
I beg your ladyship's pardon for not returning
the history of Fotheringay, which I now enclose.
The new Veres have been returned to England these
six weeks, and I visited them at their palace (as it

54 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
really was of Henry VIII.) at Hanworth not long after
their arrival. All their near kin have done so too,
and tout s'est passS comme si de rien n'Stoit. Their
fellow-traveller is left behind. We live in such an
awkward unfashionable nook here, that we have not
yet heard Lord Vere's will, nor know whether Lord
Richard Cavendish is dead or alive. I am so much
awkwarder still, and treasure up scandal so little,
that, though I heard the Brighthelmstone story, I have
quite forgotten who the principal personage was — so
you will not fear my repeating it. I do not design to
know a circumstance about Admiral Rodney and
Admiral Ferguson. We are to appearance at war with
half Europe and a quarter of America, and yet our
warfare is only fending and proving, and is fitter for
the Quarter Sessions than for history. It costs us
seventeen or eighteen millions a-year to inquire whether
our generals and admirals are rogues or fools, and,
since most of them are only one or t'other, I would
not give half a crown to know which. The nation is
such an oaf as to amuse itself with these foolish dis
cussions, and does not perceive that six years and
above forty millions, and half our territories, have
been thrown away in such idle pastime. How the
grim heroes of Edward III. and Henry V. would stare
at hearing that this is our way of making war on
France !
The night I had the honour of writing to your lady
ship last, I was robbed — and, as if I were a sovereign or
a nation, have had a discussion ever since whether it was

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 55
not a neighbour who robbed me — and should it come
to the ears of the newspapers, it might produce as
ingenious a controversy amongst our anonymous wits
as any of the noble topics I have been mentioning.
Void le fait. Lady Browne and I were, as usual,
going to the Duchess of Montrose at seven o'clock.
The evening was very dark. In the close lane under
her park-pale, and within twenty yards of the gate, a
black figure on horseback pushed by between the chaise
and the hedge on my side. I suspected it was a high
wayman, and so I found did Lady Browne, for she was
speaking and stopped. To divert her fears, I was just
going to say, is not that the apothecary going to the
duchess ? when I heard a voice cry "Stop!" and the
figure came back to the chaise. I had the presence of
mind, before I let down the glass, to take out my
watch and stuff it within my waistcoat under my arm.
He said, "Your purses and watches!" I replied, I
have no watch. "Then your purse!" I gave it to
him ; it had nine guineas. It was so dark that I could
not see his hand, but felt him take it. He then asked
for Lady Browne's purse, and said, " Don't be fright
ened ; I will not hurt you." I said, " No, you wont
frighten the lady ? " He replied, " No, I give you
my word I will do you no hurt." Lady Browne gave
him her purse, and was going to add her watch, but
he said, " I am much obliged to you ; I wish you good
night ! " pulled off his hat, and rode away. " Well,"
said I, " Lady Browne, you will not be afraid of being
robbed another time, for you see there is nothing in

56 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
it." " Oh ! but I am," said she, " and now I am in
terrors lest he should return, for I have given him a
purse with only bad money that I carry on purpose."
" He certainly will not open it directly," said I, " and
at worst he can only wait for us at our return ; but I
will send my servant back for a horse and a blunder
buss," which I did. The next distress was not to
terrify the duchess, who is so paralytic and nervous.
I therefore made Lady Browne go into the parlour, and
desired one of the duchess's servants to get her a glass
of water, while I went into the drawing-room to break
it to the duchess. " Well," said I, laughing to her
and the rest of the company, "you won't get much
from us to-night." " Why," said one of them, " have
you been robbed?" "Yes, a little," said I. The
duchess trembled ; but it went off. Her groom of
the chambers said not a word, but slipped out, and
Lady Margaret and Miss Howe having servants there
on horseback, he gave them pistols and dispatched
them different ways. This was exceedingly clever, for
he knew the duchess would not have suffered it, as
lately he had detected a man who had robbed her
garden, and she would not allow him to take up the
fellow. These servants spread the story, and when my
footman arrived on foot, he was stopped in the street
by the hostler of the " George," who told him the high
wayman's horse was then in the stable ; but this part
I must reserve for the second volume, for I have made
this no story so long and so tedious that your ladyship
will not be able to read it in a breath ; and the second

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 57
part is so much longer and so much less, contains so
many examinations of witnesses, so many contradic
tions in the depositions, which I have taken myself,
and, I must confess, with such abilities and shrewdness
that I have found out nothing at all, that I think to
defer the prosecution of my narrative till all the other
inquisitions on the anvil are liquidated, lest your
ladyship's head, strong as it is, should be confounded,
and you should imagine that Rodney or Ferguson was
the person who robbed us in Twickenham Lane. I
would not have detailed the story at all if you were
not in a forest, where it will serve to put you to sleep
as well as a newspaper full of lies ; and I am sure
there is as much dignity in it as in the combined fleet
and ours popping in and out alternately, like a man
and woman in a weather-house.

LETTER CCV.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 17, 1781,
My story is grown cold, madam, and I am tired
of it, and should make nothing of it now. In short,
though it has had a codicil, it has ended no how, and
is only fit to entertain the village where it happened.
The quintessence was that a great corn-factor, who is
in bad odour here on the highway, arrived at the
"George" a moment after or before our robbery, and
was suspected, and my footman thought he could swear
to the horse; and then Zoffani, the painter, was

58 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
robbed, and his footman was ready to take his bible to
the person of a haberdasher, intimate of the corn-factor;
but Mr. Smallwares proved an alibi, and the corn-factor
gave a ball — and none but the dancers acquit him —
and so much for an idle story. Your ladyship's idiot
was more tremendous than our Corn — way-man.
I am not likely to hear of a place, madam, for your
recommandh, but will propose her if I should.
I see Graves and Hood have been tolerably beaten ;
I do not wish Hood unthrashed, but I had rather it was
Commodore Johnstone that had met with a drubbing,
instead of a rich booty. I read, too, that Lord Corn
wallis is trying to house his tattered laurels at New
York ; and for that I am not much grieved neither.
Since we are to be cuffed from one end of Europe to
t'other end of America, I am glad when renegades are
our representatives. I hope Lord Dunmore is going to
have his dose.
I heard at Park-place that the Prince of Wales has
lately made a visit to Lady Cecilia Johnstone, where
Lady Sarah Napier was. She did not appear, but he
insisted on seeing her, and said, " she was to have been
there," pointing to Windsor Castle. When she came
down, he said he did not wonder at his father's ad
miring her, and was persuaded she had not been more
beautiful then.
Lord Richard Cavendish is indubitably dead, and so
I see is Lord Kelly. As this is but a postscript to my
last, your ladyship will excuse its brevity.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 59
LETTER CCVI. Oct. 26, 1781.
In good sooth, madam, I do not know who is the
grandmother of Charity, unless it means the present
Duke of Montagu, in whose breasts I conclude there is
not a drop of the milk of charity left, vu the dirt he has
discovered in his transactions with Lady Beaulieu, since
the death of Tisiphone her sister. Old Marlborough, or
old Duchess Montagu could not be that grandmother,
unless they may be called the grandames of charity-
children, who would willingly have left some of their
own children to the parish. The friend who wrote the
verses was perhaps Bishop Hurd, or Lord Brudenel, or
Lady Greenwich, or one of the King's footmen.
I have heard a very indifferent account of poor Mr.
Morrice from Lady Margaret Compton, who says Dr.
Turton has a bad opinion of him. He is at Bath, and
that delays our consultation on Cav. Mozzi's affair.
Of my nephew, I have received just such accounts as
Lord Ossory gives. I wish he would fix on his isthmus
of Corinth, for the scene of an exploit he has got in that
head which all the world finds so sensible. He is
going to. set up at Leghorn a monument for his mother,
and has sent me the epitaph for my opinion. It says
she died universally lamented. Oh ! that he would
translate it into Greek or Coptic, or any lingo that
every English sailor could not understand ! I have
answered very respectfully, as becomes a dutiful uncle,
without giving any opinion or advice at all ; for to

60 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
contradict a madman is to persuade him. If he thinks
I approve, he may change his mind.
In the meantime, while Mr. Morrice is incapable of
attending our Court, I have been transacting another
knotty affair, of which I despaired, but have brought
to an amicable hearing. Mr. Jephson's play on my
" Otranto," has been committed to my care, on and off,
for these twelve months. But he had chosen other
guardians too. A lady genius persuaded him to give it
to Mr. Sheridan, who having the opera and the nation
to regulate besides, and some plays to write, neglected
the poor Irish orphan. Then I was desired to recom
mend it to t'other house. Unfortunately a third guar
dian was appointed ; and, though your Milesians have
hearts unsteady as the equator, they have always an
ecliptic that crosses their heads, and gives them a
devious motion. When I applied to Mr. Manager
Harris, it came out that the Hibernian trustee had ori
ginally engaged the play to him ; and when Mr. Harris
complained of the breach of promise, he was not soft
ened by the too zealous friend. There had been twenty
other mismanagements, and Mr. Harris would not hear
the play named. As I have seen other negotiators of
late miscarry by bullying first and bending afterwards,
I took the counterpart, and in two days so softened the
majesty of Covent-garden, that he has not only engaged
to act the tragedy, but by the beginning of December,
when my utmost hopes did not expect to see it before
spring. Nor was this my only difficulty. Mrs. Yates is dying,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 61
and the sole remaining actress, Miss Young, refused the
part of the mother, because, as she said, Mrs. Crauford
had refused it. Mr. Harris begged me to write to Miss
Young. I did ; and to turn aside what I guessed to
be the real motive of the refusal, I told her I would not
suspect that Mrs. Crauford declined the part from pre
ferring that of the daughter, because Mrs. Crauford
must know the world too well not to be aware, that
when a gentlewoman of middle age appears in a very
juvenile part, it does but make that middle age more
apparent. There was so much sugar strewed over this
indirect truth, that even there I have succeeded too,
and Miss Young has complied. I am to attend re
hearsals, and give advice on scenes, dresses, &c, and so
must be frequently in town. In short, my uncle never
negotiated with more abilities. Pray, madam, respect
my various talents. I have lately acted as a Justice of
Peace ; am to sit as Chancellor in a Court of Equity on
my nephew's dispute with Mozzi ; and have now been
Plenipotentiary to the Sovereign of a theatre ! What
pity that I should have cut my abilities so late ! Well !
thus I unwrinkle my old age with whatever pastime
presents itself, instead of growing ill-humoured or co
vetous, the resources of longevity.
Your ladyship, however, seems to think that I have
a good deal of wrongheadedness in my composition. I
confess I have not that verbal patriotism which bids
one say one wishes what one does not wish. I confess I
do wish better to the Americans than to the Scotch,
because the cause of the former is more just. The

62 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
English in America are as much my countrymen as
those born in the parish of St. Martin-in-the-Fields ;
and, when my countrymen quarrel, I think I am free
to wish better to the sufferers than to the aggressors.
I do look on Lord Cornwallis as a renegade. He was
one of five who protested against the Stamp Act. He
therefore had no principles then, or has none now ; and
neither in compliance with the vulgar or the powerful,
will I say I approve him.
If an alderman's son, not content with a decent
fortune and a large portion of well-deserved immor
tality, is proud of becoming toad-eater to a Scotch
Chief Justice, of having a few more words said to him
at a levee than are vouchsafed to Dr. Dominiceti, and
of being ordered to pen memorials for such boobies as
Lord Suffolk and Lord Hilsborough, I do not wonder.
But when a gentleman, a man of quality, sells himself
for the paltry honours and profits that he must quit so
soon, and leave nothing but a tarnished name behind
him, he has my utter contempt ; nor can I see how my
love of my country obliges me to wish well to what I
despise. Your ladyship is more charitable, or more
patriotic, or perhaps your sentiments may not be so
rooted as mine, who do prefer the liberties of mankind
to any local circumstances. Were I young and of
heroic texture, I would go to America ; as I am de
crepit, and have the bones of a sparrow, I must die on
my perch ; and, when you turn courtier, I will peck my
bread and water out of another hand.
For France I have no predilection for it ; nor is my

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 63
respect for it augmented. It does so little, it makes
so poor a figure, that one would think Lord North was
Minister there as Well as here. In truth, madam, I
have no platonic passions. I cannot love what I do
not esteem. We have forfeited all titles to respect.
I appeal to the unalterable nature of justice whether
this war with America is a just one ? If it is not, can
an honest man wish success to it? and I appeal to
posterity whether it can find in all our annals so dis
graceful a period as the present. You, madam, as a
sound patriot, may wish that Admiral Darby with an
inferiority of two-thirds had beaten the combined
fleets ; which he did not attempt to beat : but give me
leave to say that you should recur to your piety.
Piety believes in miracles ; miracles alone can counter
poise superior weight of metal, or counteract folly*
which has thrown away the empire of the ocean. It is
true, we have still the jaw-bone of an ass left ; but
somehow or other it has lost its wonder-working effi
cacy : but come, madam, I will show that I can be
impartial too. I do assure you I have not the smallest
apprehension from Lord Cornwallis's victorious arms ;
and I do pray for the duration of the present Ministry,
for I am sure they will never conquer America, or any
thing else.
I had heard the story of Lady Sarah and the Prince,
and know it is true. The spindle-tree I have, — paper
enough I have not to reply to other articles in your
ladyship's letter. I beg your pardon for the length
and tediousness of this, but I could not bear not to

64 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
justify myself in your eyes ; I have spoken the truth,
I do not know whether with any success. My senti
ments have always been the same, and I believe firmly
will never alter.

LETTER CCVII. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 6, 1781.
I believe I am very dull, or quite blinded by pre
judice, for I confess I do not feel the force of your
ladyship's arguments. Are men in the right to take
up arms in self-defence, and in the wrong to declare
themselves independent ? Is resistance by force a thing
indifferent, and the declaration in words a crime ?
Methinks by that rule all who joined the Prince of
Orange were justifiable, but ceased to be so the moment
King James was dethroned. Thus men ought to offend
a king but never to punish him ! I believe their
majesties would agree to that compromise.
I can as little subscribe to the position that it is the
duty of an officer to obey his king, whatever may be
the officer's opinions. Were that maxim true, no con
scientious man can accept a commission if it dissolves
the obligation of his conscience. Those very loyal
instruments, the bells of a parish church, do allow a
precedence to God— fear God, honour the King ; but I
am talking politics and arguing— two things I do not
love. I am almost afraid to tell you news on that
subject, as I doubt your ladyship is less and less likely
to recover your share of sovereignty over America.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 65
Lord Graham and Lord Sefton, who have been in town,
tell me that the accounts brought by Colonel Conway
are very bad indeed. I did see him himself on Satur
day at Ditton on his way to Windsor, but he was so
discreet as to say nothing, but that what he brought
was not very good : that the French have thirty-seven
ships, and we twenty-three ; that the former have
landed 4000 men, and evacuated Rhode Island, and
taken two of our best frigates ; the papers say three ;
but it is not true that two regiments have been cut
to pieces, for the 45th, one of the named, is in England.
He did say, that your friend, Lord Cornwallis, has the
back country open to him, and he did not add, what
Lord Sefton tells me is said, that he had provisions but
for six weeks. We shall close, I believe and hope,
madam, in wishing an end to this destruction of the
species, nor can the most loyal, I suppose, think that
even the dependence of America was worth purchasing
at the expense of thousands of lives, of forty millions
of money, of the sovereignty of the sea, and of the loss
of America itself. We were naturally tradesmen, and
had better have borne a few affronts than asserted the
point of honour at so dear a rate.
It is very far from true, madam, that I write either
prologue or epilogue to the Count of Narbonne. I
could no more compose twenty verses than I could
dance a hornpipe. My faculties are as dilabrees as
my limbs, and these are deplorable. My nerves are so
shattered that the clapping of a door makes me trem
ble ; and this poor hand that is writing to you has
VOL. n. f

66 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
long lost the use of three of its joints, and I fear will
quite desert me. I have now, and have had all the
summer the gout in the fourth finger. Thus my per
son is as antiquated as my political opinions !
I have not seen Mr. Selwyn for half a century. He
has the mal d propos almost as strongly as the & propos.
Others with more malice, say they perceive a likeness
to the Lord William. Miss Lloyd is full as like to
Lady Sarah. Miss Bunbury has a great deal of the
Lennoxes, not so handsome, but with a much prettier
person than any of the females of the family.
Genealogist as I am, I cannot make out, madam,
how Miss Sackville is Lord Mansfield's niece. You
say you do not entirely believe that his lordship gave
away his niece. Cela me passe. To weep at weddings
I know is of ancient custom, as much as double en-
tendres ; a ceremonial, the former, of which I never
knew the origin. The more and the longer a fashion
prevails, the less sense there commonly is in it. Thence
solutionists, like etymologists, seldom hit on the true
foundation, both hunting for some meaning.
I recollect how prolix my last was ; and though you
are too civil to tell me, madam, of that other symptom
of my dotage, I am aware of it myself, and wish you
good night.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 67

LETTER CCVIII.Berkeley Square, Nov. 15, 1781.
I don't know whether I shall be able to go
through a letter, madam, for I have a new swelling
on one of my fingers, which must be lanced, and my
hand trembles so much that I often cannot write a
line. In this uneasy situation I am again come to
town to attend a rehearsal. This play, I confess,
plagues me a good deal, for our lord's ecliptic country
men undo as fast as I do. The manager was going to
hurry on the performance last Saturday, before actors,
scenes, or anything was ripe. I trusted to accidents
and bore that haste. I had no sooner done so, than
one of your Milesians took fire and wrote an angry
letter to Mr. Harris, in resentment of the precipitation.
— Well ! that quarrel I made up. To-day, after I had
begged Mr. Harris to procure an epilogue, and he had
got one, Mr. Jephson had written to this Mr. O'Quarrel,
who is a poet too, to write one, and so he has ; and
now, on Thursday night with the play to come forth
on Saturday, we don't know which is to be preferred.
I am to be at the theatre to-morrow by eleven, and
Lord knows what will happen ! I will tire your lady
ship no more with my grievances, but will take care
how I promise and vow for a play again. I want to
be quiet in my own Strawberry again — indeed I am
fit to be no where else, and have a great mind to
fix there. F %

68 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
I heard a great deal of French news t'other day, by
one just come from Paris. I don't answer for one
syllable being true. My historian says the queen
seemed to be resolved, d la Marie d'Este, that her
babe should be a dauphin. Her reckoning and her
person shifted backwards and forwards, and the last
time having put off her delivery for a fortnight, and
sent the king to hunt, he was fetched back in a
quarter of an hour to see a son. Then there is a
delightful episode of a Mademoiselle Diane de Polignac,
a friend of the favourite duchess, who was dame to
Madame Elizabeth, and who was so very pious and had
so bemethodized her mistress, that they feared the
princess would follow her aunt Louise into a convent,
and they would have dismissed the saint, if the queen
would have consented, and if the saint herself had not,
one beau matin, had the misfortune to have a little
one. For fear of any more virgin-mothers, the queen
and the duchess have produced an old Madame Dande-
lot, who was exiled in the last reign for having taken
a very different way to convert Madame Adelaide, by
lending her a strange book, of which I protest I know
the name no more than your ladyship. One anecdote
more, and I will not ask my hand to say a word more.
The Comte d'Artois carried his eldest boy, the Comte
d'Angouleme, to see the dauphin. The child said, il
est bien petit. The prince replied, patience, mon
infant, vous le trouverez bien-tdt trop grand.
I don't know whether your ladyship can read all
this tittle tattle ; it does not signify if you do not. I

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 69
know nothing else, nor could write more if I did.
Soon, mayhap, I must write upou a slate, it will only
be scraping my fingers to a point, and they will serve
for a chalk pencil. Friday.
I have been at the theatre, and compromised the
affair of the epilogues ; one is to be spoken to-morrow,
the Friend's on the author's night. I have been tumb
ling into trap doors, seeing dresses tried on in the
green-room, and directing armour in the painting
room, and all this with such a throbbing hand, that I
was tempted to rest myself in Covent Garden Church
yard, and bilk both the great stage and the little one.

LETTER CCIX.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 22, 1781.
I am angry with myself, madam, for having drop
ped a word that gave you any concern ; nor shall I
forgive my guilty self, though it has produced such
new proof of your ladyship's goodness. I have not
suffered at all by my campaign at the theatre, but like
weeds that escape the scythe, I do not catch cold where
a giant would. It is true I am so nervous, that the
least surprize or sudden, noise agitates me from head
to foot — but I will not say a word more on my
debility. An aspen leaf can give an oak no idea of
its sensations — and why should it? I have such a
dread of seeming not to be apprized of my antiquity

70 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
and decay, that very likely I carry it to affectation, for
it is difficult to keep to the medium of simplicity and
common sense, on any occasion. Having therefore put
in my caveat against being suspected of any imaginary
robustness, you shall hear no more of any cracks that
happened to the premises.
After all my pains Mr. Jephson is not quite satis
fied. Though I had begged him (and he had promised)
not to communicate to his Irish friends the approach
ing exhibition of his tragedy, he had, as I told your
ladyship, written to one of them here, who, as I told
you too, quarrelled with Mr. Harris and then, I be
lieve, with me, about his epilogue. To punish me,
he wrote to Mr. Jephson that I had given up a ma
terial point of the decoration of the last scene, and
had consented that the statue of Alphonso should be
cumbent, though Mr. Jephson had called it standing —
which by the way was wrong. The truth was, we had
not time to remedy that contradiction, unless by alter
ing the word, which Mr. Friend would not allow, nor
could we have placed an erect statue in the scene pre
pared — and if we could, it would have spoiled the
great effect of the last scene. In short, Mr. Jephson
has written me a pressing letter to amend that dispo
sition, when it is too late. Well ! I am content with
having brought so beautiful a play on the stage ; and
as it is never too late to learn, I will take care how I
undertake such an office another time.
My sage nephew, Lord Orford, is, I hear, drawing
up a code of laws — for coursing; for the use of her

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 71
Imperial Majesty of Russia — a fitter code, indeed, for
a despot, than a general system of legislation. I hope
Diderot and D'Alembert will celebrate her humanity
in not allowing poor hares to be hunted to death, but
according to law. You see, madam, she has sent her
son to travel ; shall you be prodigiously surprised if
he was to die suddenly by eating ice when he was
over-heated ?

LETTER CCX. Tuesday noon, Dec. 18, 1781.
I heard our parenthesis of good news too late
last night, madam, to give you an inkling of it ; and
I doubt whether, if we should receive a complete
wreath of sea-flags, I shall have time to send you a
leaf to-day, as I am to dine with Princess Amelie, and
shall not be dismissed before the post departs. As
American liberty is safe, I shall like prodigiously to
have crushed a quota of the French navy, and shall
love Admiral Kempenfeld as much as Lord Sandwich
himself can. The East Indian triumph is firmly
believed. If we only conquer at t'other end of the
world, and lose all our nearer possessions, we shall
be like a trapes in the Strand, that one sees with short
petticoats and a long train. I will keep my letter
open till the coach comes to the door, in hopes of a
fortunate express, as I have begged Lady Hertford to
send me the earliest news.
I was diverted last night at Lady Lucan's. The

72 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
moment I entered she set me down to whist with Lady
Bute — and who do you think were the other partners?
the Archbishopess of Canterbury and Mr. Gibbon. I
once saved Lady Suffolk at the Dowager Essex's from
playing at the same table with Lady Yarmouth. I
saw Lady Suffolk ready to sink, and took her cards
from her, saying, " I know your ladyship hates whist,
and I will play instead of you."
If I am too late, should any account come, I con
clude Mr. Fitzpatrick will write.
I have been listening impatiently for the Park
guns ; but it is past two, and they are dumb. I fear
their office is almost grown a sinecure, like the Lau
reate's, who only chants anniversaries, whether glad
or sorry !
To divert my impatience, I will tell your ladyship
a story that George Selwyn told us t'other day, after
dinner, at Lord Hertford's, and you will allow the
authority to be very good. When Mr. de Grey became
Baron of Walsingham, he felt that so high a rank, and
a title so illustrated, could not consort with Commer
cial Commissioners, he resigned his seat at the Board
of Trade. Lord Carlisle obtained it for Storer, who
kissed hands, vacated his seat, and was re-elected ;
but, lo ! the great Baron of Walsingham cried, hold !
I am above the place, but till I have another as lu
crative, I will not relinquish the salary — that is, livery
and labour degrade ; wages for doing nothing, do not ;
and so poor Storer has already lost four hundred
pounds, because a peer blushes to be in the red-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 73
book below his rank, but not to take another man's
pension who works for it ! Do not you like, madam,
to see a grandee hopping with one foot on the haut
du pave", and t'other in the kennel, partie per pale,
ermine and mud! It is just four, I must seal my
letter, and go.

LETTER CCXI. Dec. 19, 1781.
There ! madam, there ! one cannot for a moment
expect success, but one is in a scrape, and involved
in disgrace ! Runners come forth in swarms, buzz
about one's ears, cry victory ! transports taken ! an
expedition defeated ! the West Indies saved ! and one
is such a driveller as to believe them, and to die with
impatience for half a dozen French men-of-war towed
into Portsmouth, and as many sunk, with the loss of
only a leg or arm to some of one's particular friends ;
next night comes out a gazette, and coolly tells you,
yes, we had taken a few transports, though, somehow
or other, we have dropped half a dozen by the way ;
and as to destroying the enemies' fleet, why, they
happened to be an over-match for us, as they had
five little vessels of 110 guns each, which had been
concealed behind a mole-hill out of sight of any of
our cutters; and so we contented ourselves with our
day's sport, and hope you will not be much disap
pointed. Well, but what have you done with the
West Indies ? Oh ! they will go ; but you have got

74 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
the East Indies in their stead, and sure diamonds and
gold are preferable to sugar ; and had not you rather
our gracious Sovereign was great Mogul, than master
of two or three islands almost as small as Mecklen-
berg ? I wish you good-night, madam ; I have done
with politics, they make me sick !

LETTER CCXII.
Berkeley Square, Dec. 22, 1781.
Your inquiries about Miss Keppel are very kind
indeed, madam. Till within these four or five days
I was not at all alarmed about her ; and thought, from
her embonpoint, that a cough would be of no conse
quence ; but Mrs. Keppel is so terrified by the many
fatal disorders that have carried off almost all the
house of Albemarle, that she has frightened me too,
and but this morning, by the Duke's command, I
proposed to her to carry her daughter abroad, to which
she immediately consented, and I believe will, if, upon
farther consultation, it is judged right.
In answer to your ladyship's other question, in good
truth my serenity is not at all ruffled ; nor would it
be yet, were it ever likely to be. It would be as
ruffleable as a porcupine, had it set up its quill yet,
for hitherto I am only reading both Bryant and
Milles by deputy. I skimmed the former's second
volume, and dipped into one or two pages of the
latter, but though I have tough patience at a tedious

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 75
book, I doubt I shall never compass all the ancient
lore in Mr. Bryant's first volume, and still less its
caput mortuum in the Dean's. I let Lady Ailesbury
carry Bryant to Park Place before I had finished a
quarter of what I intend to read, and have lent
t'other to a clergyman. Mr. Conway says Mr. Bryant
has very nearly convinced him, and he (Bryant) cer
tainly has ingenuity enough to be a formidable ad
versary, whether one is in the right or in the wrong ;
yet, where I have looked into him, I thought I saw
weak places. However, I am unalterably determined
not to write a word more on the subject. I have
declared I would not in my defence of myself; and
have determined, besides, not to write more on any
subject, and least on this, because, having unwillingly
taken a part, I must be prejudiced. But, in fact, I
look on this controversy, as I do" on other problems of
faith which can never be cleared up to the satisfaction
of everybody ; and I do not believe that the salvation
of my understanding depends on crediting legends,
when it requires so much learning to prove it pro
bable that the supposed author ever existed ; and if
he did exist, that he was inspired ; which Rowley
must have been. The corporal evidence I had seen
before, and very vague and inconclusive it is; but
shall not I be doubly out of luck, madam, if Rowley
is pronounced Gospel? I believed in Ossian, who is
now tumbled into the Apocrypha ; and I doubted of
Rowley, who is now to rank with Moses and the
prophets ! — I doubt I have very bad judgment.

76 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
As to Lord Macartney, whom your ladyship de
scribes with the Arabian eloquence of Scheherezade,
and with much more wit, when you make him ride on
three elephants at once like Astley. I own, since his
paltry behaviour to me about Lady Mary Wortley's
letters, I take no part in his triumphs, nor care
whether he rises in the east or sinks again in the west.
He was treacherous to me at the very moment he had
been greatly obliged to me. I have not equal faith in
Lady Derby's triumphs — yet, as I have been telling
you, I had rather believe anything than contest it ;
and were I to hear that Dr. Hunter was sent to Ver
sailles to make a new treaty of Paris with the Queen's
accoucheur (who you say, madam, is made free of the
theatre), I would not dispute it — nay, I should rejoice ;
for, considering how many miscarriages we have had,
it could not be so scandalous a piece as the last.

LETTER CCXIII. Christmas Day, 1781.
I always answer immediately, madam, if I have
time ; because, as letters ought to be nothing but ex
tempore conversations upon paper, if the reply is not
speedy, the curiosity that prompted the question may
be passed before the answer arrives. Nothing, then,
can be further from my thoughts than accompanying
my niece abroad, if she should go, which is not deter
mined, as her disorder seems to be an inflammation on

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY- 77
her breast, and not a tendency to consumption. For
me, who only pendulate from Berkeley Square to
Strawberry, and think Ampthill as far as the Anti
podes, and who was near dashing my brains out on
Saturday night, by missing a step at Mrs. Keppel's
door, if David had not caught me in his arms like a
baby thrown out of window when a house is on fire, is
it possible that I should think myself able to convoy
anybody else ? Oh ! no, madam; nor were I as brawny
as Commodore Johnstone, would I set my foot on the
continent at present, when every country in Europe,
except we ourselves, must be sensible of our shame !
For your ladyship's other question, why I do not
publish my letter on Chatterton ? what, because I don't
know who in the newspaper wants to see it ! My
resolution must be light as gossamer if such a breath
could make them waver. I flattered myself that you
knew me enough to be sure that when I have once
made a resolution, it is not the easiest thing in the
world to shake it : much less such an idle controversy
as, whether Rowley or Chatterton was Rowley, which is
as indifferent to me as who is churchwarden of St.
Martin's parish. And how can I care now what is
thought about it ? When I have outlived all the prin
ciples and maxims purchased for us by the nobis army
of Martyrs, and when there is nothing so foolish and
absurd that is not believed and adopted, what matters
whether Ossian, or Rowley, or Mother Goose's Tales are
canonized as classics ? Thank my natal stars I was
born in a better age, and had much rather be what I

78 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
was, an author of a very inferior class twenty years
ago, than the brightest luminary that is bound in
Morocco and gold, and presented to the library in the
Park at this disastrous era — to be elbowed by Scotch
Metaphysics, and led out of my senses by Scotch his
torians; and not get a wink of sleep on my shelf, though
a forgotten author, from hearing Dr. Hunter teach the
youngest prince his Erse alphabet, or being stunned by
a dialogue half Highland and half German, between
the librarian and Madame Schevellenberg ! Lady, now
lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, &c.

LETTER CCXIV. Monday night, Jan. 7, 1782.
I was angry, I am angry ; but the Gods know,
not with you, madam, nor with anybody else in par
ticular. I am aggrieved by nobody. Mine is an
honester and an unselfish indignation. I am hurt to
see all prospects annihilated that would have made
one care about what is to survive one. Nothing will
be left of England but the vestiges of its grandeur;
and what shocks one already is, that the Vandalism
that overspreads ruined empires has anteceded our
last moments. Bad taste, spite, calumny, pert dulness,
and blundering affectation of humour have taken place
of everything agreeable. I would not quote such re
cords as the newspapers if they were not the oracles
of the times, and what everybody reads and cites.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 79
Besides Macpherson's daily column of lies, is there a
paragraph that is not scandalous or malevolent even in
those that are set apart as a tithe for truth ? Half of
each is replete with error and ignorance. If a family
has a misfortune of any kind, it is cast in every mould
in ill-nature's shop, and the public is diverted in every
way in which it can be misconstrued. I need instance
but in the late melancholy adventure of Lord Camden's
daughter. Is not a country more savage than Hotten
tots, where all private distresses are served up the next
morning for the breakfast and entertainment of the
public ? When you have waded through the scandal
of the day, the next repast is a long dissertation on
two contending pantomimes, while a mixture of losses
of ships and armies and islands is a glaring mark of
the insensible stupidity of the age, which is less occu
pied by national disgrace and calamity, than by slander
that used to be confined to old maids, and follies only
fit for children. A week's newspapers preserved to the
end of the next century will explain why we are fallen
so low. They would supply Voltaire with a chapter on
les mceurs du temps. I think I have justified myself
and my contempt for the times I live in, madam, and
why I am not ambitious of having it remembered that
I belonged to them.
I cannot answer your ladyship's questions about
Lord Essex's trial ; indeed I do not remember the
circumstance. Miss Keppel is much better. Sir Richard Jebb is
confident of its being a bilious case.

80 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
I have been this evening at Miss Monckton's to see
Mademoiselle Theodore dance a minuet with young
Edgecumbe ; and to-morrow I shall go to the opera,
for the first time this year, to see her and hear the
" Allegranti," as Queen. Elizabeth's reign is over, and
there is no likelihood of there being any trials. I do
not believe that even her ghost condescended to peep
at the ball that was given at Hatfield last Thursday to
the county of Hertford.
Pray do not forget Lord Chandos at Woburn. Mine
is in black profusely laced with silver, a white waist
coat much slashed, and a round black hat, with a rich
jewel. Tuesday.
My project of going to the opera is addled. I have
got the rheumatism in my left arm, and cannot put
on my coat. It is not the gout ; I know his tooth too
well to mistake his bite.

LETTER CCXV.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 12, 1782.
Your ladyship will excuse my employing Kirgate,*
as I am not able to write myself. One would have
thought that I had been too well acquainted with the
gout's voice to mistake his accent for a stranger's ; but
as the pain began on the inside of my elbow, I
flattered myself that it was only rheumatic. Next
morning I was cured of my mistake, and at present
* This letter is in his servant's hand-writing. — Ed,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 81
my poor lean hand is colossal. I have had much less
pain that fever, but three restless nights have con
vinced me so much of my extreme weakness, that
should the gout take a fancy, as it did some years ago,
of making the grand tour of my person, I should
little expect to get through it; indeed I cannot now
attempt even to dictate an answer to above one or two
paragraphs in your ladyship's letter : much less is my
head clear enough to tell you the whole strange story
of Mrs. Steuart. The family themselves neither are
nor can ever be certain in their belief ; but upon the
whole it seems to me to have been a sudden fit of
lunacy with which she had been afflicted.
Captain Waldegrave was so very obliging and good-
natured as to call on me this morning, and I was
happy to see him look so much better than I expected
after all his vexations, disappointments and illness.
He talked of being at Ampthill I think on Monday
next. Doctor Dee's black stone was named in the catalogue
of the collection of the Earls of Peterborough, whence
it went to Lady Betty Germaine. She gave it to the
last Duke of Argyle, and his son Lord Frederic to me,
H. W.

LETTER CCXVI.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 19, 1782.
I had seen in the papers the epigram your ladyship
has sent me to-day, and liked it so much, that I cut
VOL. II. g

82 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
it out. Like well I did, too, the Ampthillian lines.
It was the subject alone that I disapproved in them ;
and, though you say I had no right to take exception,
as there was no compliment to my roses and lilies, I
do maintain that my complexion is likely to last as
long as my fame, and, therefore, if I should have
been in the right to be displeased at a compliment
to the more durable of the two, I might justly protest
against one to the shorter lived of the twain. Nay,
as much as your ladyship may disparage my looks
(which I believe you did out of revenge), I have no
doubt but the outside of my head will survive the
inside ; and, therefore, as I may last till I am a fine
man of my age, I beg you will let me enjoy what
I can, instead of nursing me with visions of what I
shall never attain.
It is my belief, though still a problem, that Lord
George Germaine has resigned ; which is signing his
confession, at least, that America is lost. The King
has had a violent bleeding at (his own) nose, which
returned yesterday at the drawing-room. Scarce any
great ladies, except those immediately attached to the
Court, were at the birthday, in resentment for not
having been asked to the Queen's balls last year.
Upon my word, I believe everybody will have spirit
at last in England, except the two houses of Par
liament. So Lord Ossory comes on Monday, and your lady
ship very early next winter !

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 83

LETTER CCXVII.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 9, 1782.
Lord Ossory says that your ladyship complains of
my not writing ; but he could have told you that
I have scarce an inch of finger left ; one of those with
which I am now writing is but recovering of a new
explosion of chalk. I believe they look, in little, like
the channels of lava from Vesuvius. Indeed, when
our lord is in town, you know it is my compact not
to write. He lives at Brookes's, where politics are
sown, and in the House of Commons, where they come
up. I go scarce anywhere, see few people, and know
nothing of the new generations that have been hatched
since I went to roost. When I do write, if I had not
a sovereign command over my pen, I should talk of
nothing but my own caducity, which, as if one's
country was a something of which one is part, keeps
pace with the body politic, and loses a joint or a
faculty every month. As I have not recovered the
use of my left hand, so Great Britain is losing her
right one, Lord George Germaine — yet, I suppose, like
Widdrington in "Chevy Chace," she will continue
fighting on upon her stumps, Lords Stormont and
Hilsborough ; nay, what may she not recover with the
semblance of a new secretary, who has all the activity
of an Aulic counsellor, the circumstantial minuteness
of a churchwarden, and the vigour of another Methu-
salem. Even the respectable Ellis! what enterprises G 2

84 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
will be set on foot by this dashing old Parr and his
contemporary, my Lord President Jenkins ! Well, I
shall expect to be sent for, since the empire is to be
recovered by antediluvians.
Our lord, to be sure, has told you, madam, how,
in one day, one culprit was whitewashed in one house,
and another blackened in the other. I do not approve
the treatment of the latter : the courtiers are ready
enough to vilify him, now he is fallen ; but the Oppo
sition never hit on a right scent ; like mongrels, they
only worry hunted game. If they were true bull-dogs,
they would fasten on that bloody caitiff, the Lord Advo
cate, who proposed, en passant, to starve five thousand
fishermen and their families, as a preliminary, and has
now got 6000/. a-year for condemning the American
war, which I suppose he will now promote again, as
advantageous to his new post ; and then we fast to beg
a blessing on such wars and such war-makers ! When
Lord North told Lord George Germaine that he must
go out, he replied, shrewdly, " And pray, my lord, why
are you to stay ?" undoubtedly for his modesty and
philosophy. When one of the subscribers to his new
loan asked him if we were near peace, he replied, " A
year nearer than we were, and a year nearer to de
struction." I hope our historians, Sir John Dalrymple
and Macpherson, will parallel this indifference with
that of the Roman magistrates, who expected the
Gauls in their curule chairs in the forum. Our dic
tator would be less sad. Cannot you figure him,
madam, in the midst of St. James's market, not in a

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 85
curule, but a very easy chair, with a circle of butchers
round him, splitting their sides with laughing at his
jokes, and telling them it was true he had undone
them, but should continue a good customer still, who
ever should be their or his master ; it was all one to
Punch.

LETTER CCXVIII. Feb. 23, 1782.
I never remonstrate, madam, against the behests
of Dame Prudence, though a lady I never got acquainted
with till near my grand climacteric. I approve of
your giving no handle to suspicions ; but, is it neces
sary to banish yourself? Must you be able to prove an
alibi ? And may not your staying in the country be
surmised as calculated for seeing your son more
secretly ? It avails nothing to cure a jealous mind of
one object of distrust — you do not cure it of jealousy.
I shall certainly not open my lips on one of your lady
ship's motives and measures ; but as to your fixing a
time for coming, and though Lord Ossory says it will be
next week, I have little faith; nor shall expect you
before the Greek Calends, a certain time of a month in
which the Athenian ladies, who never kept their words,
used to come to town.
This was all I had to say, for our lord will write to
you himself, no doubt, from the field of battle. Per
haps I ought to congratulate you on his being almost,
almost victorious ; at least, it was a drawn battle, when

86 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
the enemy had a majority but of one. I confess I
expected the Opposition would have lost ground, as I
thought Lord Sandwich more unpopular than the war,
and that the deserters, as usual, of late, would make
their peace by returning to their colours ; but it seems
I little understand how interest operates on men. It
appears that it acts again as it used to do formerly, and
conducts its mercenaries to the increasing side : still it
is my opinion, though I do not boast of my penetration,
that the present face of affairs will produce nothing
but new confusion. Though the Court should take
panic, or be actually beaten, it will recover its ground.
The Opposition will not agree, and one little faction or
other, will grow, or pretend to grow, more enraged at
its competitors, than at the enemy, and will accept the
places against their late friends, which they cannot
obtain by the acquiescence of those friends.
This, I imagine, will be the case, if it comes to a
treaty ; but should an alteration and a new administra
tion take place, what can they do, ruined as the
country is ? — no ; I shall tremble for them — not re
joice ; especially as their old antagonists turned into an
opposition, will be very different opponents, and not
conscientious and moderate as they have been. I fore
see much more that I will not express ; nor will I say
more, when it would only be conjecturing. I have no
opinion of my own sagacity ; and what signifies my
guessing what is to happen, when I shall probably see
so little of the crowd of events that are coming on ?
I shall leave my country afloat, struggling for existence,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 87
and then in quest of a new constitution, for I do not
see a shadow of probability of the old being restored.
To that my attachment was, and I care little indeed
about any other that will not resemble it. Perhaps
this is not the language of a man rejoicing in the suc
cess of his friends ; but places for them was never what
I was solicitous about. On one point I do heartily
rejoice — the pursuit of the American war must stop ;
ay, and for a while at least, despotism must pause ;
and though it may be England's fate at last, it will
not be America's !
I beg your ladyship's pardon for talking so much
politics : no, I do not ; I could talk to no man more
capable of understanding them; and it would be
impertinent to treat you with trifles at such a mo
ment, which made me write, though Lord Ossory is in
town ; but I have not anticipated what he will tell
you. He is too young not to regard triumph as a good :
it is the property of sedentary age, to balance the
different aspects of prospect.

LETTER CCXIX. March 21, 1782,
It was most obliging, madam, to send me the news,
though I happened to be gone to the Princess. I did
not, indeed, expect to live to see the administration
demolished. I hope I shall not be mistaken in think
ing the moment not ripe for their fall. Their having

88 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
laid down their arms, before a capitulation made, is a
very favourable circumstance ; and if their successors
are wise, may be turned to good account, if, instead of
paying Court for pardon, they take care to be above
wanting it. If they imitate the last ministers, they
will make way for them again, and will fall less pitied,
and still less deserving pity.

LETTER CCXX.
Berkeley Square, June 13, 1782.
Though it was being ungrateful for your kind
note, madam, I could not bring myself to write when I
had nothing to tell you but about myself. What can
be said of a lame old creature but that he is still alive?
I have been for two days at Strawberry to sleep in the
air, which was literally all I could do, for it rained
every minute, and, unless I had had a pair of Mrs.
Noah's clogs, I could not have set my foot out of the
ark. I found every mortal at Twickenham as ill as
they have been in town. Both Lady Di.'s daughters
were in bed, Lady Browne very bad, and Mrs. Clive, I
think, in a still worse way. Then it was so cold, I
had no inclination to stay. Of my spring delights,
lilacs, apple-trees in bloom, and nightingales, the two
last are over and the first going. My orange trees
still keep their beds ; and for roses, there was not even
a white one on the 10th of June (except in the con
servatory at Kane Wood), though they used to blow

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 89
as religiously on that day as the Glastonbury thorn.
In short, the season seems to sympathize with my
decay, as poets say it does with them when their
Phillis is absent. I don't believe you found Ampthill
very sultry, madam ; you had better return to town
like me, and put an erratum at the end of your
almanac, for June read January. Summer was made
to be felt and enjoyed, not to be taken for better for
worse like a spouse, in whom one has no pleasure any
longer. I found nothing new in town but a marriage or two,
as many deaths, a house-breaking, and a murder — if
they are novelties. Lord Lewisham marries his cousin
Lady Frances Finch, Lord Aylesford's sister. Lady
Grandison is dead at Spa ; her body arrived before her
death was known ; her steward received a letter from
Margate from her maid, to say they had got in there
with her lady after a disagreeable passage : he went to
look for a house for her, and an hour after learnt that
it was the corpse. Sir Thomas Frankland's house was
broken open last night in Bond-street, close to St.
James's-street, though his wife and servants were in
town ; and as Lady Chewton and her sisters came
from the Opera, they saw two officers fighting in Pall
Mall next to Dr. Graham's, and the mob trying to part
them. Lord Chewton and some other young men went
into the house, and found a Captain Lucas of the
Guards bleeding on a couch. It was a quarrel about
an E 0 table, I don't know what. This officer had
been struck in the face with a red hot poker by a

90 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
drawer, and this morning is dead. So are hundreds of
peach and apricot trees of the influenza ; but methinks
I am writing a letter like the casualties at the end of
a reign in " Baker's Chronicle." He would have inter
preted them into judgments and portents ; now they
are only common occurrences, and will be forgotten
to-morrow, without disturbing civilized society. Reli
gious times breathe a browner horror- on everything ;
philosophers write folios against immoral times ; but,
when a nation is perfectly well bred and indifferent,
no enormities shock anybody ; and, when they have
made an article in the newspaper, are mentioned no
more than the clothes at the last birth-day. I should
not have ventured to tell you half my paragraphs,
madam, if you were not a country body of a week's
standing. LETTER CCXXI.
The weather, I confess, did change, madam, as
suddenly and unexpectedly as the Administration, and
both probably for a short time. His majesty the sun,
who had not shone a good while, came out in a very
warm mood, and everybody was impatient to kiss his
hand ; but in three days his chancellor, the east wind,
turned those halcyon days to a storm, and I look upon
the bloom of summer as gone. I have been twice at
Strawberry, but shall not settle there till next week,
when my Court removes over sea and leaves me at
liberty, which I shall enjoy as much as the Duke of

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 91
Manchester or Lord Ludlow do a drawing-room. My
nephew, Lord Cholmondeley, you know, madam, is going
to Berlin : he refused Russia, which I should have thought
he would have preferred, as he is more formed to succeed
with a gallant Empress than with a peevish old politi
cian, and could carry better credentials. They say the
Prussian King is at last well disposed to us and huffs
the Dutch d notre intention. If, after all, we do not
sink, English vanity will conclude more than ever that
Providence dotes upon us, and never will let us be
ruined, let us play the fool as much as we will. I have
a better opinion of Providence, and, unless it originally
bestowed good luck on fools as a balance and compen
sation, I do not believe that it employs itself in
remedying blunders. My countrymen, with their
leave, are exceedingly contemptible. They have, for
these seven years, been applauding and encouraging
the Court to persist in all its frenzy and obstinacy,
and now it rains addresses of thanks to his Majesty for
changing his administration ; though they have no
reason to thank him or themselves for the change.
Strawberry Hill, June 28.
I had begun this letter a week ago here, in answer
to your ladyship's last, was interrupted, and left it here
in my table drawer ; yet though it is superannuated, it
will be as new as anything I could tell you. Besides
Lord Ossory has been in town, and carried you all the
novelties of the week, if there were any. Lord Rock
ingham was said to be better yesterday, but that is a
very ancient date in the health of a first minister.

92 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
What would Lord Shelburne think of my want of curi
osity, who came out of town this morning without
inquiring? I am to dine to-morrow with Princess
Amelie at Gunnersbury, must return on Sunday for the
last drawing-room at Gloucester House ; and on Thurs
day shall be sovereign of myself again, which is much
more important to me than who is to be first Lord
of the Treasury, if the marquis is carried off in his
second dictatorship. Three hours ago I saw just the
reverse of what is passing in Lord Rockingham's anti-
chamber. It was Lady North, her three daughters,
and one of her sons taking a solitary promenade on the
river, and landing to stroll on the shore, without a
single Rosencrantz or Guildenstern attending. Forty
years ago I myself was one of the dramatis personce
in such a scene ; and as even then I was perfectly
indifferent to the change of decorations, it is not sur
prising that I should look on them now with much
composure ; but it was constitution not philosophy :
philosophy is only a command of muscles. I never
could command mine, when I really cared ; and should
have made a miserable politician had I ever felt a
sensation of ambition.
I believe there is some apprehension of a visit in
the channel from the United Squadrons. I heard a
good deal about them t'other night, and dreamt the
French had landed at Torbay, which I loved myself
for, as it shewed what a preference there is at my heart
to Torbay. At least I am sure that I had paid little
attention to the idea of an invasion, but a great deal to

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 93
a modicum of King William's coat, taken out of his
wound after the battle of the Boyne, and set in a
crystal locket, which Mrs. Walsingham shewed me a
week ago, and which probably gave the colour to my
dream. The Bishop of Salisbury is dead ; I conclude Bishop
Shipley will succeed him, nor can have above one
competitor, Bishop Hinchliffe, unless your* beaufrere
is immediately premier, and names the chancellor's
brother. I suppose to-night I shall dream of Bishop
Hoadley ; for you see, madam, I am an old Whig even
in my sleep, and that the powers of darkness cannot
affect my principles.

LETTER CCXXII. Berkeley Square, July 1, 1782.
Undoubtedly you will have as early intelligence
as I can send you, madam, of to-day's great event :
Lord Rockingham died at one o'clock at noon. Unless
I could tell you what is to be, it would be idle to add
more, or to talk of any other subject than what this
event will produce ; and as I have neither the honour
of being a prophet, nor am of the drawer of any
cabinet, I will not pretend to say what will be, nor
(like a thousand others who know no more than I, and
who will not be more consulted) what should be, though
I am perfectly clear what ought to be ; but as the
* Lord Shelburne, who married Lady Louisa Fitzpatrick, Lord
Ossory's sister. — Ed.

94 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
crown is lapsed to King George again, and as he may
not happen to be of my opinion, I shall keep it to my
self, and be ready, like the Vicar of Bray, to admire the
choice, whatever it shall be.
They say there has not a howd'ye as big as a silver
penny been sent from Windsor, nor any inquiry made ;
and yet I should think there was care taken to have
minute intelligence. I can give you some very good
of the negative kind, madam. Though there is a mitre
vacant, and it is now six o'clock, I have not seen a
divine knocking at a pair of gates in this square, nor
are any marrowbones and cleavers yet arrived.
It will be a singular year if the next six months pro
duce as strange events as these six have ; a total
change, the caterpillars, the influenza, and the death
of a prime-minister. A propos, I was forced last Satur
day to have two bird-cherries at Strawberry Hill cut
down and burnt ; they were totally covered with webs,
like a sheet full of well grown caterpillars — as I have
prodigious faith in nature's prognostics, I am persuaded
that we are not yet secure against an inundation of
Scotch ministers. I picked up a caterpillar myself that
had as many colours as a plaid. You that have no
superstition, madam, may laugh at me for telling you
of my dreams and omens — to be sure, I did not use to
be so credulous ; but remember,
The soul's dark cottage, battered and decay'd,
Lets in new light through chinks which time has made.
I have so many of those inlets, that no wonder my

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 95
faith increases ; but adieu, madam, I will go and hear
what the world says.
P.S. Oh ! I have got a new omen, that tells me
Lord Shelburne will be minister — premiers always live
where I do. In Arlington-street, my father, Lord
Granville, Mr. Pelham, the Duke of Grafton. It is odd
that their star and mine should domicilier together ;
but the nearer the church —

LETTER CCXXIII. Sunday evening, July 7, 1782.
You will not be surprised, my dear madam, that
either I do not write or do not know what to write.
What I think and feel, I can best tell you by what I
said to Mr. Fitzpatrick last night. I met him in the
passage of the playhouse ; he said, " I fear you do not
approve us." I replied, " I feel concern so much more
than disapprobation, that I call it only concern." He
said, " It was coming fast to this point before Lord
Rockingham's death ;" " Yes," I answered, " but I wish
it had not come to this point these three months !"
These sentiments might be rolled out into a long com
mentary, but they contain the pith.
I have no hesitation in saying that I think Mr. Fox*
* About this period was written by Lord Ossory the following-
character of Mr. Fox : —
" I look upon Mr. Charles James Fox, now Secretary of State, to be
one of the most extraordinary men that ever existed. He is the second
son of Henry, Lord Holland, a man much distinguished in his time ; was

96 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
the fittest man in England for prime-minister ; I say
it aloud and everywhere. But there are points in
question at this moment far more important than who
shall be premier. The pacification of America and
the negotiations on the anvil are of dearer moment ;
and ought not, cannot wait, for domestic contests.
Every man, too, has his own feelings. I have been
called a Republican ; I never was quite that, as no man
ever was quite of any of the denominations laid down
in books. But, if never a Republican quite, I never
approached in thought, wish, inclination, or reasoning,
towards being a partizan of an aristocracy. What !
not be a Republican, and yet approve a republic of
tyrants ! I never admired Lord Rockingham : shall
educated at Eton, and was afterwards a short time at Christ Church,
Oxford. His father was doatingly fond of him, indulging him, but also
reasoning with him upon every occasion. He was very young when his
father finished his political career ; but hearing from his childhood a
constant conversation upon political subjects and the occurrences in the
House of Commons, he was both by nature and education formed for a
statesman. His father delighted to cultivate his talents by argumenta
tion, and reasoning with him upon all subjects.
" He took his seat in the House of Commons before he was twenty-
one, and very shortly began to shew the dawn of those prodigious talents
which he has since displayed. He was much caressed by the then
Ministry, and appointed a Lord of the Admiralty, and soon promoted to
the Treasury. Lord North (which he must ever since have repented)
was inclined to turn him out upon some trivial occasion or difference ;
and soon afterwards the fatal quarrel with America commenced, Mr. Fox
constantly opposing the absurd measures of Administration, and rising by
degrees to be the first man the House of Commons ever saw. His op
position continued from 1773 to 1782, when the Administration was
fairly overturned by his powers; for even the great weight of ability,
property, and influence that composed the opposition, could never have
effected that great work, if he had not acquired the absolute possession
and influence of the House of Commons. He certainly deserved their

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 97
his self-elected executors tell me that I am to take the
oaths to Lord Fitzwilliam ; I who was a nonjuror in
the uncle's time! I see a very good reason why
Mr. Fox should say that that imaginary King never
dies ; but, as I told him t'other night, my Whiggism is
founded on the Constitution, not on two or three great
families, who are forced to have virtue for a claim to
their dignity, and any able man they can find to exe
cute the office for them. My Whiggism is not con
fined to the Peak of Derbyshire.
In my tiny sphere I have been labouring to prevent
disunion : to very little purpose truly. Mr. Fox has
suffered me, with his usual and unalterable good
humour, to talk to him very freely ; not on the
general rupture, for I am neither vain enough nor
confidence, for his political conduct has been fair, open, honest, and de
cided, against the system so fatally adopted by the Court. He resisted
every temptation to be brought over by that system, however flattering
to his ambition, for he must soon have been at the head of everything.
But I do not know whether his abilities are not the least extraordinary
part about him. Perhaps that is saying too much ; but he is full of good
nature, good temper, and facility of disposition, disinterestedness with
regard to himself, at the same time that his mind is fraught with the
most noble sentiments and ideas upon all possible subjects. His under
standing has the greatest scope I can form an idea of, his memory the
most wonderful, his judgment the most true, his reasoning the most pror
found and acute, his eloquence the most rapid and persuasive."
It his highly honourable to both, that, in 1793, when Lord Ossory
separated from him, he makes the ensuing entry in his memoranda : —
" 1793. — I retract none of my former sentiments of Mr. Fox, but I
can differ with him. This detestable French Revolution is the cause,
and though I am sure he does not approve it, yet he will not give coun
tenance to the war which we are now engaged in, and in which everything
is at stake. He leans in these dangerous times to opinions, which, if
not destroyed, must destroy all order and civilization in Europe." — Ed.
VOL. II. H

98 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE-
foolish enough to suppose that I can persuade him by
my arguments out of his own ; nor do I talk to a
politician on his duty to his country, because a master-
genius feels something in himself which inferior mortals
cannot feel, and which tells him that whatever hurt
he does he can repair the moment he is possessed of
full power ; but my point has been, and shall be, to
endeavour to preserve good terms between him and
his uncle duke. Even in that I may fail at present,
but they are both too good natured not to forgive on
the first opportunity.
There is a world more of topics for talk, but the
tide is too rapid at present, not to hurry the present
moment away, and supply its place before the post
can arrive. I have sketched my thoughts, as it would
look like want of confidence or political mystery, if I
were silent. I am apt to be too frank, and thank my
stars I have no secrets to conceal. I like and dislike,
and say so, and readily avow my purposes. I long to
get to Strawberry, where I shall have no purposes at
all. When this vision of a Whig administration, so
unlikely ever to be realized, had acquired substance —
not then likely to last, has vanished so instantaneously,
what a dotard should I be, if again I looked forward !
Adieu ! madam ; I do not believe you enjoy the crisis
more than I do ; but I beg you not to suppose that I
desire an answer. It cannot be pleasant to you to
talk on points that touch you more nearly ; but I am
a creature isole, and what I think or say is of no con
sequence.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 99
LETTER CCXXIV.
Berkeley Square, July 11, at midnight, 1782.
I am this minute come from Lady Mary Coke's,
at Notting Hill, where I dined with the present com
mander-in-chief and the late chancellor of the exche
quer, and, though the party had been made before the
rupture, nothing could pass more amicably ; nay, Lord
John left us to sup at Richmond House. All this is
mighty well, and I might compliment myself on
having contributed to preserve appearances ; yet I see
how little they will last, when any opportunity offers
of discovering what is under the embers. Nay, I
believe, what moderation remains, proceeds from per
ceiving already how ill the late precipitation is gene
rally taken. Very ill indeed, by all not immediately
connected with the principal actors.
On my table I found your ladyship's letter, and sit
down to answer it, late as it is, because I shall leave
London to-morrow with no thoughts of seeing it again
in haste ; for, though my two friends have acted
rightly, I am far from being enamoured of anything
else. It flatters me much to find that I am so fortu
nate as to agree with your ladyship and Lord Ossory,
and to find you so full of confidence on a point on
which I had no right to expect any. You may be
assured nothing you have said will pass my lips ; in
deed, I shall see nobody to-morrow, and am going to
vegetate only among my dowagers.
It is self-evident that the sole way of preventing
h2

100 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
much evil was by remaining. Nor is it less certain
that the rash steps taken must please infinitely in a
place whence dissention was always cultivated. What
could the opening of so many doors produce but the
introduction of some of the late discarded ? It will
not, in truth, surprise me if the introductor himself is
at last sent to graze : nor was I in the wrong when I
said in the first moment that Power was lapsed back
again. Some very disgraceful circumstances that have
just come out will repay what has been lost with
usury, for all credit in patriotism must be lost when
its wages are so high.
Your private lamentation, madam, is equally well
founded, though the relapse will be much more dan
gerous to Mr. Fox than to Mr. Fitzpatrick, whose
stamina are of stouter texture ; the former, I fear, will
destroy himself. I was on the point of saying to
him t' other morning, " Well, but you must not go
and play at taw again !" but I thought it would be
impertinent. What can one suggest that he does not
know and must have thought ? I did flatter myself
that he now was on the high road to all he ought
to attain — he would have attained it — but he will
neither live to reach the goal, nor, when Parliament
is not sitting, take the least pains to promote his
own views ; but I blame myself for expatiating when
you, madam, have comprised in a short fable the
quintessence of all I could say. It is so just that
I wish Mr. FoX had seen it last Wednesday sevennight.
I do confess it is he on whose account I am mortified.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 10 L
I had pleasure in thinking that, old as I am, I should
yet see a first-rate minister who would revive this
country. That vision is over, and every other ! I
have been shewn a glimpse of a new Jerusalem : I
waked, and found it was a dream ! — here conclude
my politics. All will run back into the old channel.
A miracle happened — and might almost as well not.
At sixty-five it is too late to look forward again. I
am as much disappointed as if I had had personal
views ; but I confess that I find it more easy to com
fort myself from having had none. I can wish well to
England, as I did before ; but when one can neither do
good nor prevent mischief, it is allowable to leave the
public to itself. It will be a capital loss to me if your
ladyship and Lord Ossory adhere to your purpose of
going abroad; but I cannot be so selfish as to disap
prove it. Next winter, I am persuaded with you, will
be very disagreeable, and to you an anxious one.
What one cannot remedy, it is best to avoid.
Thank you exceedingly once more, madam, for your
letter and fable, and be assured, wherever you are,
that while I remain here I shall be most unalterably,
Yours, &c.

LETTER CCXXV.

Strawberry Hill, Aug. 4, 1782.
I should have written, madam, had I had any
thing to tell you : but what can I send from hence
but repetitions of the samenesses of every summer ? I

102 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
pass most of my evenings at the hospital of the poor
Montroses ; Clifden is little less an infirmary. I
have dined again with the Princess Amelie, and twice
with the Hertfords at Ditton, and see a great deal of
my family, who are cantoned round me like those of
a Patriarch, when tribes began to increase and remove
to small distances. My brother is at Isleworth, Lady
Dysart at Ham, the Keppels at the Stud, the Walde-
graves at the Pavilions, and Lady Malpas in the palace ;
but I am not the better stocked with materials for
letters ; nor, though the neighbourhood is enriched by
some invention, as Lady Cecilia Johnston's at Peters
ham, and Lady Bridget Tollemache's on Ham Common,
is my gazette at all flourishing, since we have ceased
to be on the high road to intelligence. Lord North,
finding Bushy Park too solitary since his sun was set,
is gone on a progress into the Tory regions of Oxford
and Staffordshire ; and Mr. Ellis has moulted his French
horns with the seals. The events of our district have
been confined to the death of Mr. Prado, the marriage
of Miss Pococke, the death and will of Mr. Child, which
have occupied us more than the hide and seek of the
hostile fleets. Bankruptcies, houses to be sold or let,
and robberies every night, fill up the gazette of our
neighbourhood, but would make dull journals into
another county. I have foresworn politics, and have no
connection with the next generation. I know nothing
of what the Prince of Wales does ; and for him who
only undoes, I am like his Laureat, and talk of any
thing rather than of him.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 103
George and La Mimie called on me half an hour ago ;
he is gone to pass a day or two with Colonel Keene on
Hampton Court Green ; so the fall of a party can
make people as fond of one another, as two English
men that are perfect strangers, if they happen to meet
in China ! George is all afflictions ; the Duke of
Queensberry has broken a tendon, and Mrs. Webbe is
dying. I love him so well that I hope he will never
have greater calamities.
Lady Chewton is a very good young woman, madam,
and I rejoice that Lord and Lady Waldegrave are
satisfied with her. Lady Seffcon's politics must be
admirable : Mrs. Bouverie, I hear, is a great politician
too. The trade will grow more entertaining, if the
ladies make it the fashion : it was become as much a
profession of calculation as that of a banker's shop.
I do not know what it would not become, since honest
Colonel Barre* has established a drawback for principles.
I was, indeed, madam, excessively diverted with
" The Agreeable Surprise :" it is excellent nonsense,
and very original. Whatever is so, has great merit in
my eyes : I would not give sixpence a ream for what
Mr. Hayley and such copyists write. I am sorry you
are to pay half as much for this letter, madam, but
what can I do ? I have condemned myself to pass the
end of my life as insipidly as I possibly can ; and yet,
since you will have the goodness to recollect me, I
cannot give up gratitude, as I have all entertainment ;
but when I have told you that I am grateful, I have
nothing else worth telling you of your ever devoted,
H. W.

104 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCXXVI.
Strawberry Hill, Aug. 15, 1782.
I am greatly proud, madam, of having formed so
able a scholar as your ladyship. Be assured, that you
will every day find more comfort in becoming an anti
quary. The study of antiquity has a multitude of
advantages over other pursuits. All its discoveries
produce new lights and no disappointments. They are
not doubtful, like the fruits of sciences that depend on
reasoning. Is it not charming too, that one may choose
one's field of inquiry ? You may pursue the conquest
of France with Edward and Henry, humble Spain with
Queen Bess, or with her, treat the Dutch with haughty
kindness. You may plant colonies in America with
Drake, Raleigh and Cavendish ; subdue Tyrone, and
fetch the regal chair from Scone, instead of being on
the point of restoring it. Then, by choosing your period,
you may choose your party ; and in the wars of the
Roses change according to the prevailing side, with
every revolution. All this naturally follows, if you
dive into the secrets of old families. You grow in
terested about their heroes, and forget our contempo
raries and the present state,
 From what height fallen !
But I will proceed to your interrogatories, madam.
The shield certainly contains the arms and quarterings
of a Sydney. Quarter 1st, is Sydney. 2d, Dudley.
3d. Somery, or, two lions in pale azure. 4th. Gray. 5th.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 105
Beauchamp. 6th. Old Warwick, or and azure, with a
chevron ermine, always quartered by the Beauchamps.
The shield, therefore, I conclude to belong to a female
Sydney, who married an earl, and thence perhaps,
Frances Countess of Sussex, foundress of Sydney Col
lege. There are, I believe, instances of ladies who
have given only their own arms ; or such a shield
might answer to another of her husband, in which were
only his arms. Had she impaled his, they would have
been impaled, not quartered, on the man's side ; but
could not possibly be in the last quarter. Nor could
the shield, even without the coronet, represent Sir
Henry Sydney's widow, who would have impaled her
own arms, or if she had borne her own alone, would
have given them alone, and not her husband's alone.
Thus, a little too like a genuine antiquary, I have
answered your ladyship's questions, without satisfying
your curiosity. Nor could I ever unravel to my own
satisfaction the history of Ampthill-Houghton. By the
busts in the house, and by the crests in the frieze with
out, it is certain that it was possessed by the Sydneys.
The new- discovered shield confirms it ; and perhaps
does, connected with your ladyship's postscript, which I
have since received by itself, explain the whole. As
you have found that Robert the first Earl of Leicester
was steward of the manors of Anne of Denmark, and
that Ampthill was a jointure manor of Queens, and as
one of the busts is of his sister Mary, Countess of
Pembroke, the Arcadian, is it not possible, that as the
greater Ampthill was the manor-house, Houghton-

106 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Ampthill might be a lodge which he lent or obtained
a grant of to his sister Lady Pembroke ; who, being a
Sydney, and more proud of her brother Sir Philip and
her own family than of her husband, might decorate
the house with her own emblems, and as a sort of
foundress leave a shield of her own arms only with the
coronet to testify her dignity? I think we used to
doubt whether the male bust was her husband's or her
brother's Sir Philip. I prefer this hypothesis to my
first idea of the shield belonging to Lady Sussex.
Mightily I am pleased with Mr. Leveson's legacy to
Captain Waldegrave. We do not seem in a course that
will enrich him by prizes. I had no curiosity about
Monsieur de Grasse, though I was in town for two days
while he was the object of the moment. To be sure he
was something of a sight ; but formerly beaten French
admirals were no rarity to us.
Mr. Morrice is gone to some mud-baths, I forget
where. Having been turning over my books since your
postscript arrived, I must hurry my letter, for I am not
dressed, my dinner is ready, my cousin Mr. T. Walpole
is with me, and I shall not have time to say more after
dinner.

LETTER CCXXVII.

Strawberry Hill, Aug. 31, 1782.
It is very strange indeed, madam, that you should
make me excuses for writing, or think that I have any
thing better, or even more urgent to do than to read

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 107
your letters. It is very true that the Duchesse de la
Valliere, in a hand which I could not decypher, has
recommended Count Soltikoffe and his wife to me ; but,
oh ! my shame, I have not yet seen them. I did mean
to go to town to-day on purpose, but I have had the
gout in my right eye-lid, and it was swelled yesterday
as big as a walnut ; being now shrunk to less than a
pistachio, I propose in two or three days to make my
appearance, and plead my eye's big belly. Luckily the
countess was born in England, the daughter of the
former Czernichew, and she is in such terrors of high
waymen, that I shall be quit for a breakfast ; so it
is an ill highwayman that blows nobody good. In truth
it would be impossible in this region to amass a set of
company for dinner to meet them. The Hertfords,
Lady Holdernesse, and Lady Mary Coke did dine here
on Thursday, but were armed as if going to Gibraltar ;
and Lady Cecilia Johnstone would not venture even
from Petersham— for in the town of Richmond they rob
even before dusk — to such perfection are all the arts
brought ! Who would have thought that the war with
America would make it impossible to stir from one
village to another ? yet so it literally is. The colo
nies took off all our commodities down to highwaymen.
Now being forced to mew and then turn them out like
pheasants, the roads are stocked with them, and they
are so tame that they even come into houses. I have
just been reading a most entertaining book, which I will
recommend to you as you are grown antiquaries : I
don't know whether it is published yet, for the author

108 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
sent it to me. Part was published some time ago in the
" Archseologia," and is almost the only paper in that
mass of rubbish that has a grain of common sense. It
is, " Mr. E. King on ancient Castles." You will see how
comfortably and delectably our potent ancestors lived
when in the constant state of war to which we are
coming. Earls, barons, and their fair helpmates, lived
pell-mell in dark dungeons with their own soldiers, as
the poorest cottagers do now with their pigs. I shall
repent decking Strawberry so much, if I must turn it
into a garrison.
Mr. Vernon was your ladyship's informant about the
Soltikoffs ; but he gave me more credit for my intended
civilities than I deserved. The French do not conceive
when they address strangers to us, that we do not at all
live in their style. It is no trouble to them, who have
miscellaneous dinners or suppers, to ask one or two
more : nor are they at any expense in language, as
everybody speaks French. In the private way in which
I live, it is troublesome to give a formal dinner to
foreigners, and more so to find company for them in a
circle of dowagers, who would only jabber English
scandal out of the " Morning Post."
Mr. Fitzroy Scudamore, by a very old will, gives
everything to his daughter, consequently to Lord Surry,
who gets above 40,000/. An estate of 1,200/. a-year
goes to Lord Southampton, if Lady Surry has no
children. To two or three very old servants he has
not left a farthing — it is no excuse that the will is of
ancient date — why did not he make a later ?

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 109
You are not serious, madam, that Mr. Fox is going
to Gibraltar ! Is he to be Alexander at Oxydracas, as
well as at Statira's feet ? But he may save himself the
trouble ; I should think the town gone by this time —
which is more than our fleet is. Just this moment I
hear the shocking loss of the "Royal George!" Ad
miral Kempenfelt is a loss indeed ; but I confess I feel
more for the hundreds of poor babes who have lost
their parents ! If one grows ever so indifferent, some
new calamity calls one back to this deplorable war !
If one is willing to content one's self in a soaking
autumn with a match' broken, or with the death of a
Prince Duodecimus, a clap of thunder awakens one, and
one hears that Britain herself has lost an arm or a leg.
I have been expecting a deluge, and a famine, and
such casualties as enrich a Sir Richard Baker ; but we
have all King David's options at once ! and what was
his option before he was anointed, freebooting too ?
Drowned as we are, the country never was in such
beauty; the herbage and leafage are luxurious. The
Thames gives itself Rhone airs, and almost foams ; it is
none of your home-brewed rivers that Mr. Brown makes
with a spade and a watering-pot. A propos, Mr. Duane,
like a good housewife in the middle of his grass plot,
has planted a pump and a watering trough for his cow,
and I suppose on Saturdays dries his towels and neck
cloths on his orange trees ; but I must have done, or
the post will be gone.

110 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCXXVIII.
Oct. 1, 1782.
So far from being your gazetteer, madam, I believe
I shall be nothing but your echo, for I can only repeat
or reply to the paragraphs you send me. I know no
thing new, nay, nor anything old that is new. Mr.
Churchill and my sister have been with me ; I made a
little assembly for them, and lighted up my gallery,
but the terrors of highwaymen are so prevalent that I
could muster but two cribbage and one commerce table.
If partridge shooting is not turned into robber shooting,
there will be an end of all society !
I admire Lady Westmorland's delicacy in her toasts.
Indeed I am so ignorant in the fashions of the world
that is come, that I thought toasting was quite left off,
except by the volunteers in Ireland, and by some of your
parsons who probe venison, and calculate how many
stone of fat will come to their share; but fashions
alter ! I should not wonder if it grew the ton to sell
bargains. I know not whether the episcopal earl had any hand
in ordaining Lord Russell for the stage, but I conclude
Dr. Cumberland had ; at least I am sure he had under
taken to correct it. How curious must the produce be
of frenzy steeped in laudanum !
Cecilia I did read, but, besides its being immeasurably
long, and written in Dr. Johnson's unnatural phrase, I
liked it far less than Evelina. I did delight in Mr.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. Ill
Briggs, and in the droll names he calls the proud
gentleman, whose name I forget. Morris, too, is well,
and Meadows tolerable, and Lady Something Something
and Miss Something ; but all the rest are outrfe. The
great fault is that the authoress is so afraid of not
making all her dramatis personas set in character, that
she never lets them say a syllable but what is to mark
their character, which is very unnatural, at least in the
present state of things, in which people are always
aiming to disguise their ruling passions, and rather
affect opposite qualities, than hang out their propensi
ties. The old religious philosopher is a lunatic, and
contributing nothing to the story, might be totally
omitted, and had better be so. But I am most offended
at the want of poetical justice. The proud gentleman
and his proud wife ought to be punished and humbled ;
whereas the wife is rather exhibited as an amiable
character. To say the truth, the last volume is very
indifferent. The vindication of the Governor of Barbadoes was
quite lost upon me, who had never interested myself in
his story, nor even know of what he was accused. I am
a prodigious economist of my memory, and never load
it with details about people and things for which I do
not care a straw. This is meant with no disrespect for
your ladyship's information, for which I am obliged, as
you see it has furnished me with five lines ; a great
object in my present sterility ! My barrenness is much
increased by shutting my ears to politics, to which I
never will listen more. I was accustomed to a flourish-

112 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
ing free kingdom ; I had extended my ideas to empire
— I cannot contract them to a fragment of a bankrupt
island which has gamed away its fortune, and learned
all the tricks of a ruined gamester. We are totally
degenerated in every respect, which I suppose is the
case of all falling states. In what do we shine ? Sav
ing the respect that I have for youth, I do not think
the present blossoms are entertaining. They may
amuse themselves very well, but surely they are not
ingenious nor contribute to enliven us. I think I could
still be diverted, if the complexion of the times fur
nished matter ; but I certainly cannot divert your
ladyship, when my own mind stagnates for want of
something to put it in motion.
Princess Amelie told Lady Margaret Compton two
days ago, that Mr. Morrice has recovered the use of his
legs : I don't know how her royal highness heard it.
I have now replied paragraph by paragraph to your
letter, madam, as if saying my catechism, and given
reasons of the faith that is in me ; but as good boys
are commonly dull, perhaps you would prefer a corre
spondent that played truant, and told you a few fibs.
Have you seen in the papers the excellent letter of
Paul Jones to Sir Joseph Yorke ? Elle nous dit bien des
verites! I doubt poor Sir Joseph cannot answer them !
Dr. Franklin himself, I should think, was the author.
It is certainly written by a first-rate pen, and not by a
common man of war. The "Royal George" is out of
luck! I have told a lie : the " Royal George" is in luck. I

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 113
have this minute received a letter from General Conway,
with these words : —
" I have a piece of good news to tell you, which is
the complete and entire defeat of the long meditated
attack on Gibraltar, which began on the 13 th at 3 p.m.,
and before midnight all the famous floating batteries
were either burnt or sunk by our red-hot balls. They
lost, it is said, 1,500 men, but none of distinction
named. They saved some in their own boats, and
General Elliot some in those he sent out."
Well, madam, is not this General Elliot the old man
of the mountain who destroyed enemies with his few
Gregeois ? It was very obliging too in him to enliven
my tame letter by such a gay conclusion — if one is to
smile at the destruction of 1,500 men ! I did smile
inwardly, for two persons came in as I was reading my
letter ; and, as I naturally said I hoped this event
would facilitate peace, one of them said, " it is very
uncertain what effect it will have on the King (of
Spain) : he has a sort of head that may persist the
more for a thing being impossible." Now we must
wait to see whether the combined fleets will be obsti
nate too and attack Lord Howe, or let him victual
Gibraltar.

VOL. II.

114 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCXXIX.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 3, 1782.
Our mutual silence, madam, has had pretty nearly
the same cause, want of matter ; for though my nominal
wife, Lady Browne, has not left me like your lord, I
have led almost as uneventful a life as your ladyship
in your lonely woods, except that I have been for two
days in town, and seen Mrs. Siddons. She pleased me
beyond my expectation, but not up to the admiration
of the ton, two or three of whom were in the same box
with me ; particularly Mr. Boothby, who, as if to dis
claim the stoic apathy of Mr. Meadows in Cecilia, was
all bravissimo. Mr. Craufurd, too, asked me if I did
not think her the best actress I ever saw ? I said, " by
no means ; we old folks were apt to be prejudiced in
favour of our first impressions." She is a good figure,
handsome enough, though neither nose nor chin accord
ing to the Greek standard, beyond which both advance
a good deal. Her hair is either red, or she has no objec
tion to its being thought so, and had used red powder.
Her voice is clear and good ; but I thought she did not
vary its modulations enough, nor ever approach enough
to the familiar — but this may come when more habi
tuated to the awe of the audience of the capital. Her
action is proper, but with little variety ; when without
motion, her arms are not genteel. Thus you see,
madam, all my objections are very trifling ; but what I
really wanted, but did not find, was originality, which

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 115
announces genius, and without both which I am never
intrinsically pleased. All Mrs. Siddons did, good sense
or good instruction might give. I dare to say, that
were I one-and-twenty, I should have thought her
marvellous ; but, alas ! I remember Mrs. Porter and the
Dumesnil — and remember every accent of the former
in the very same part. Yet this is not entirely preju
dice : don't I equally recollect the whole progress of
Lord Chatham and Charles Townshend, and does it
hinder my thinking Mr. Fox a prodigy ? — Pray don't
send him this paragraph too. I am not laying a courtly
trap, nor at sixty-five projecting, like the old Duke of
Newcastle, to be in favour in the next reign. My real
meditations are on objects much more proper to my
age. A letter I have just received from Lord Buchan
informs me of, probably, much more splendid courts than
the little tottering ruined palace in St. James's-street.
Somebody at Bath (whose name I cannot read), has made
a telescope that magnifies a celestial object 6,450 times,
by which he finds that the new planet (which I did not
see in town like Mrs. Siddons), is 160 times bigger than
our little foot-ball ; and, as the inventor expects to
improve his instrument much farther, I suppose the. new
planet will improve in proportion. Perhaps I do not talk
like an optician or an astronomer ; but think, madam,
what exquisite glasses the new planetarians must have,
before they can have any idea of our existing at all !
Well, but as those 160 times bigger folks may have
remained in as profound ignorance as Sir Joseph Banks'
friends or Captain Cook's, how clever is it in us in-
i 2

116 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
visible pismires, to have invented telescopes and cal
culated their size! I have often asked myself whither
the myriads that are continually swept from our earth
are to be transported ? Now, as human pride concludes
that the universal system was made for little us, here
is a receptacle large enough— at least, that planet may
know of others within reach, and not above some mil
lions of millions of miles off. Now stoop, madam, as
many millions of miles as all these distances make, and
let us talk of Gibraltar. Oh ! what an atom ! how can
one figure it little enough, compared with what we have
been talking of? Common sense is lost in the immen
sity : I am forced to look at my window, and persuade
myself that Richmond-hill is a large object, before I can
dismount from the stirrups of the telescope, and talk
the usual language of the world.
I am glad to hear so good an account of Hatfield
from our lord. I have been invited thither ; but I
have done with terrestrial journeys. I have not philo
sophy enough to stand stranger servants staring at my
broken fingers at dinner. I hide myself like spaniels
that creep into a hedge to die ; yet, having preserved
my eyes and all my teeth, among which is a colt's, not
yet decayed, I treated it and my eyes, not only with
Mrs. Siddons but a harlequin farce. But there again
my ancient prejudices operated : how unlike the pan
tomimes of Rich, which were full of wit, and coherent,
and carried on a story ! What I now saw was
Robinson Crusoe : how Aristotle and Bossu, had they
ever written on pantomimes, would swear ! It was a

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 117
heap of contradictions and violations of the costume.
Friday is turned into Harlequin, and falls down at an
old man's feet that I took for Pantaloon, but they told
me it was Friday's father. I said, " Then it must be
Thursday," yet still it seemed to be Pantaloon. I see
I understand nothing from astronomy to a harlequin
— farce !
Your new visitor, I hope, madam, has carried you to
Drayton. It is a most venerable heap of ugliness, with
many curious bits. There is a modern colonnade
erected by Sir John Germayne, the pillars of which,
according to his usual ignorance, were at first, as Lady
Suffolk told me, set up with their capitals downwards,
supposing them pedestals.
I condole your loss of an old servant ; I know no
more of Gibraltar than you have seen in the papers.
My Russians did come to breakfast, but understood
Strawberry so little, that I thought it never before was
so much the nurse —
 of Goths, of Alans, and of Huns.
I am very uncertain when I shall settle in London,
but think I must in a fortnight, when Mr. Duane will.
He replaces Mr. Morrice for Cav. Mozzi. Mr. Bull,
whom I saw in town, tells me poor Morrice is not at all
better and thinks of Naples. I direct to Ampthill.
P.S. Lord Buchan, who tells me a vast deal about
our antiquarian society at Edinburgh, and generally
asks me many questions about past ages, has sent me
two franks, that my knowledge may cost him no more
than it is worth. Does your ladyship know that Lord

118 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Monboddo has twice proposed to Mrs. Garrick ? She
refused him ; I don't know whether because he says in
his book that men were born with tails, or because
they have lost them.
The following is an extract (I think you will like
it) from a letter of Lord Mansfield to Monsieur Limon,
who, Gerbier being ill, pleaded and carried the cause of
Miss Hamilton against Parson Beresford, and sent his
plaidoyer to his lordship. " Vous avez pris, Monsieur,
le rdle destine d Monsieur Gerbier, et vous I'avez
remplacL On ne s'est point appercA de I'absence
d Atlas, quand le fardeau a Me" soutenu par Eercule."
The French, I conclude, Lord Stormont's ; and the
thought too, perhaps — it is pens6 d la Francoise.
I have seen the plaidoyer ; it begins with setting
forth that Mr. Hamilton, the father of Miss, is in the
line of succession to the crown of Scotland ; and in
three lines more I found that this Scottish princess
lived at Pinner — a village vulgar enough for so high
born a heroine !

LETTER CCXXX. Nov. 5, 1782.
I beg your ladyship's pardon, but I cannot refrain
from sending you a codicil to my last. I have taken
to astronomy, now the scale is enlarged enough to
satisfy my taste, who love gigantic ideas— do not be
afraid ; I am not going to write a second part to the
" Castle of Otranto," nor another account of the Pata-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 119
gonians who inhabit the new Brobdignag planet ;
though I do not believe that a world 160 times bigger
than ours is inhabited by pigmies — they would do very
well for our page, the moon.
I have been reading Lord Buchan's letter again. He
tells me that Mr. What-d'ye-call-him at Bath says that
the new planet's orbit is eighty of our years. Now, if
their days are in proportion to their year, as our days
are to our year, a day in the new planet must contain
1920 hours ; and yet, I dare to say, some of the inha
bitants complain of the shortness of the days. I may
err in my calculations, for I am a woful arithmetician
and never could learn my multiplication table ; but no
matter, one large sum is as good as another. How one
should smile to hear the Duchess of Devonshire of the
new planet cry, " Lord ! you would not go to dinner
yet sure! it is but fifteen hundred o'clock!" or some
Miss, — " Ah ! that superannuated old fright, I '11 lay a
wager she 's a year old." But stay ; here I don't go by
my own rule of proportion, I ought to suppose their
lives adequate to their size. Well, any way, one might
build very entertaining hypotheses on this new dis
covery. The planet's distance from the sun is 1,710,000,000
of miles — I revere a telescope's eyes that can see so
far ! What pity that no Newton should have thought
of improving instruments for hearing too ! If a glass
can penetrate 1,710,000,000 of miles beyond the
sun, how easy to form a trumpet like Sir Joshua Rey
nolds's, by which one might overhear what is said in

120 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Mercury and Venus, that are within a stone's throw
of us! Well, such things will be discovered — but
alas ! we live in such an early age of the world, that
nothing is brought to any perfection ! I don't doubt
but there will be invented spying-glasses for seeing the
thoughts — and then a new kind of stucco for con
cealing them ; but I return to my new favourite,
astronomy. Do but think, madam, how fortunate it is
for us that discoveries are not reciprocal. If our
superiors of the great planets were to dabble in such
minute researches as we make by microscopes, how
with their infinitely greater facilities, they might de
stroy us for a morning's amusement ! They might
impale our little globe on a pin's point, as we do a
flea, and take the current of the Ganges or Oroonoko
for the circulation of our blood — for with all due
respect for philosophy of all sorts, I humbly appre
hend that when people wade beyond their sphere, they
make egregious blunders — at least we do, who are not
accustomed to them. I am so vulgar, that when I
hear of 17,000,000 of miles, I fancy astronomers com
pute by livres like the French, and not by pounds
sterling, I mean, not by miles sterling. Nay, as it is
but two days that I have grown wise, I have another
whim. I took it into my head last night, that our
antediluvian ancestors, who are said to have lived many
hundred years, were not inhabitants of this earth, but
of the new planet, whence might come the account,
which we believe came from heaven. Whatever came
from the skies, where the new planet lives, would,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 121
in the apprehension of men at that time, be deemed
to come from heaven. Now if a patriarch lived
ten of their years, which may be the term of their
existence, and which according to our computation
make 800 of our years, he was pretty nearly of the
age of Methusalem ; for what signifies a fraction of an
hundred years or so ? — Yet I offer this only as a con
jecture ; nor will I weary your ladyship with more,
though I am not a little vain of my new speculations.
A propos to millions, have you heard, madam, of
the Prince de Guemen^'s breaking for 28,000,000 of
livres ? Would not one think it was a debt con
tracted by the two Foleys ? I know of another Prince
de Guemene", who lived, I think, early in the reign of
Louis Quatorze, and had a great deal of wit. His wife
was a savante. One day, he met coming out of her
closet an old Jew, (not such as the present prince and
the Foleys deal with, but) quite in rags, and half
stark. The prince asked who he was ? The princess
replied scornfully, "mais il me montre I'hebreu." — "Eh
bien," said the prince, " et bien-tdt il vous montrera son
cul." — I hope this story, if you did not know it, will
make amends for the rest of «iy rhapsody.

LETTER CCXXXI.

Strawberry Hill, Nov. 10, 1782.
I am very happy that my illustrations of the new
planet, which you call anonymous, amused your lady-

122 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
ship and Lady Anne for a moment in our lord's
absence ; but I do not intend to overload you with
them ; I assure you the inventor has christened it the
Georgian — whether in imitation of the constellation
named Charles's Wain, or to console his majesty with
new dominions in lieu of those he has lost, I do not
know. I was happy to be planet-struck, as you so
properly call it ; for having totally abandoned politics
and authorship, I catch at any whim that will occupy
me for a day or two, and stop a gap in my correspon
dences. Lord Ossory asks very reasonably why I corre
spond with Lord Buchan — because I cannot help it now
and then : I am his Tom Hearne, and he will extract
from me whatever in the course of my antiquarian dips,
I have picked up about Scottish kings and queens, for
whom in truth I never cared a straw. I have tried
everything but being rude to break off the intercourse;
and sometimes go as near the line as I can by smiling.
My last answer was of that kind : I humbly pointed
out an error of the press in the first number of the
Memoirs of their society which he sent me. On the
reverse of a medal of their vestal martyr, Queen Mary,
they have printed Satyr "for Saltyr — and I terrified
myself lest it should be construed into an intended
aspersion !
My last diversion has been of a different nature
from star-gazing. Mrs. Hobart, last Friday, invited
me to her play, at Ham Common. I went, because
Mr. Conway and Lady Ailesbury, and Mrs. Damer,
were for that purpose at Lady Cecilia Johnston's, and

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 123
I had not seen them for an age. I was extremely
pleased, especially with the after-piece. The play was
"All in the Wrong," and a vile thing it is : there are
three couple, all equally jealous, with no discrimina
tion of character. It is like two looking-glasses that
reflect each other without end. Mrs. Hobart played
admirably, and most genteely, which was very refresh
ing, as one never sees anything like a woman of
fashion on the stage. Her three daughters all did
well. A Mr. Fury is cried up as a miracle : he was
not so in my eyes. Col. Gardner, who is not liked, was,
I thought, little inferior, yet but middling ; but in the
" Guardian," all was perfect. The eldest Miss Hobart,
so lovely and so modest, was not acting, she was the
thing itself. There was an Irish Mr. Arabin, from Sir
William East's theatre, incomparable in the uncle.
His own brogue added exceedingly, and a Colonel
Tims, being a very well-looking man, and playing
most justly, made the story very probable.
There was a great deal of good company collected
from the environs and even from London, but so
armed with blunderbusses, that when the servants
were drawn up after the play, you would have thought
it had been a midnight review of conspirators on a
heath. There were Lord and Lady North, and their
family, the Seftons, Lucans, Duncannons, Lady Maries
Coke and Lowther, Lords Graham and Palmerston,
Lady Bridget Tollemache and her sister, the T. Pitts,
and the two Storers. There too I saw Mrs. Johnstone,
the Portugu-Englishwoman, that was called such a

124 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
beauty : she is a fine figure, but not handsome, though
too good for such a brutal swine.
You are very kind about my nieces, madam ; but I
do not believe there was the least intention of hurt to
them. The gentlemen were cleaning their pistols at
the window of the Toy, and discharged them as the
girls were going by. Mrs. Keppel took an alarm ; and
much less falling on such a soil as Hampton Court will
bring forth lies a hundred fold. Lady Chewton
looked remarkably well at her return from Weymouth ;
I know nothing of her since. Berkeley Square, 12th.
I had begun this letter at Strawberry on Sunday
night just before I went to bed : my reveil was shock
ing ; an express brought me news of the death of
Lady Hertford ! I truly loved her, she had been
invariably kind to me for forty years. She had been
seized on the preceding Sunday with a violent cough
and spitting of blood, and left Ditton on the Tuesday
for fear of being confined in that damp spot, which
has been her death. Lady Ailesbury saw her on
Friday morning and thought her very ill, and I had
determined to come to her yesterday morning, but
heard the cruel event before I could set out ; it was
an inflammation in her bowels, but as on Friday she
had had no physician, I could not conceive her in
danger. The moment I arrived I sent to know if
Lord Hertford would see me ; he said he would in the
evening. I went, but met his son Henry in the hall,
who said his father could not bear the interview.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 125
Alas ! this was a relief to me : I had amassed resolu
tion to go, as it was right I should, but I behaved so
wretchedly at the sight of the son, that it was well I
did not see the father ! His loss is beyond measure.
She was not only the most affectionate wife but the
the most useful one, and almost the only person I ever
saw that never neglected or put off, or forgot anything
that was to be done. She was always proper, either
in the highest life or in the most domestic. Her good
humour made both sit easy ; to herself only she gave
disquiet by a temper so excessively affectionate. In
short, I was witness to so many virtues in her, that
after my lord and her children, I believe nobody
regrets her so sincerely as I do. Her house was one
of my few remaining habitudes ; but those drawbacks
on long life make its conclusion less unwelcome !

LETTER CCXXXII. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 16, 1782.
Your ladyship, as ever, is good to me both in
inviting and in excusing me. Could I wait on you,
the great misfortune of losing poor Lady Hertford
should not detain me ; for as Lord Hertford will be in
Suffolk, I could be of no use to him ; and to be at
Ampthill would be much more agreeable than to be in
London, where I have lost the house to which for forty
years I went the oftenest — but to London I must go on
Monday on different businesses. One is to meet Lord

126 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Orford's lawyers with Mr. Duane, whom I have obtained
to replace Mr. Morrice as referee for the suit between
my lord and his mother's residuary legatee, who has
been treated scandalously and put off to this moment.
I have another affair to settle with the children of Mr.
Bentley who is dead, and for whom (the children) I
had placed a very small sum in the funds which I am
now to transfer to them. I will say nothing of myself,
though, without being confined, I cannot at present
take a journey. I should be very glad to meet Lady
Chewton, whom I have not seen a great while. I do
hear she is very well, but grown extremely thin.
Lord Hertford I am certain will be extremely sensi
ble of your ladyship's attention. Any mark of regard
for Lady Hertford's memory will be dear to him.
Every word he utters is an encomium on her. Indeed
his grief is as rational as it is deep ; it is an uninter
rupted funeral sermon on her. Yet though he is so de
vout, it was not tinged with any of the common-place
litanies, with which pious people often colour their
want of feeling. His concern is too sincere and too
desponding to use any expressions that are not genuine.
Lady Hertford was his wife, friend, clerk, and steward,
and was as active as she was attached. Her affection
and zeal attended to everything, and her good sense
made everything easy to her ; but I forget, and am
indulging my own sensations, while I meant only to do
justice to those of Lord Hertford.
I hope Lord Ossory adjusted the squabbles of his
regiment to his satisfaction.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 127
P. S. As I was going to seal this, I received your
ladyship's second kind note. I wish the character
could comfort Lord Hertford, but it is no momentary
satisfaction that can close such a wound, which every
incident that reminds him of his loss will open. It is
justice to him to tell you that the very morning Lady
Hertford expired his first thought was to have this tri
bute paid to her. I found a note from him on my
table in town, which I could scarce read, to beg it,
and in an hour he wrote again. It is as just to her to
say that they were my immediate thoughts, and conse
quently the true ; that I set them down, transcribed
and carried them at seven that evening, and gave
them to his son Henry, when my lord was not able to
see me himself — thus your ladyship sees there could
be no art, study, or preparation in them. Lady Lucan
has just called and told me what I am very sorry for
too, though in no proportion, that Sir Joshua Reynolds
has had a stroke of palsy — I finish — lest I should
moralize.

LETTER CCXXXIII. Berkeley Square, Nov. 29, 1782.
The hand * tells your ladyship that I cannot write
my own : I have been extremely ill ; in point of fever,
I think, worse than I ever was ; for though I have the
gout in five places I have had but little pain. I trust
the disorder is turned ; for I am so low to-day that the
* Kirgate's, — Ed.

128 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
fever must be in a manner gone, and I have no new
pain anywhere ; therefore your ladyship will be so
good- as not trouble yourself about my gout which
will cure itself in due time.
It was not pleasant, when I was so ill, to have all
my windows broken for that vain fool Rodney, who
came out of his way to extend his triumph.
I am very happy, madam, with what you say of
Lady Chewton. She is an extremely good young
woman, of a very grave turn, and extreme sensibility ;
she very seldom is in high spirits, but always more
affected by sorrow than joy. I had a note from her
this morning, and expect to see her, and I hope Lord
Chewton, tomorrow. I have heard that Lady Walde
grave is very ill, but that my lord was returned from
Bath much better.
I have been so entirely shut up for this week that I
know nothing, and my voice is too weak to dictate
much if I did. As I take a great many killings, more
than a Hercules, I shall probably be well again in a
few days, and able to write myself.

LETTER CCXXXIV. Berkeley Square, Dec. 14, 1782.
I have been so extremely ill, madam, that I was
utterly incapable of dictating two lines, nor could I
give you any account of myself but what was as bad
as possible. Since yesterday morning I am certainly

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 129
out of all manner of danger, but my breast is still so
weak that I cannot speak to be heard without uneasi
ness, and therefore I must beg your ladyship will
excuse my saying any more now. You shall have a
better account as soon as I am able to give it.

LETTER CCXXXV.
Berkeley Square, Christmas night, 1782.
I am as persevering as Widdrington in " Chevy
Chace," who fought with his stumps, for I am now
undertaking to write to you without a finger, madam.
My hand is still swaddled in the bootikin, yet it is less
irksome than to dictate. I am wonderfully recovered,
and could walk about my room without a stick, if Ton-
son did not caper against me and throw me down, for I
have no more elasticity in my joints than the tail of a
paper-kite. Sleep is my great restorative ; no dor
mouse beats me. Nay, I do not even look so ill as I
have a right to do, though to be sure I might be ad
mitted; at the resurrection without being rejected for a
counterfeit corpse : but I cut short details about my
self ; the gout is a subject of no variety.
I cannot repay your ladyship's story of " L'Amant
Voleur." We continue to have robbers of the public,
and of individuals, but their passions are all instigated
par les beaux yeux d'une cassette. However, I have
had an adventure not unentertaining. T'other day I
VOL. II. k

130 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
received a letter from Lady Aldborough, an Irish
Countess, whom I never saw in my days, but for one
quarter of an hour seven years ago at old Lady Shel
burne's. All she desires of me is, to select, correct, and
print a sufficient number of her father's poems (whom
she vulgarly calls the Honourable Nick Herbert) to
make a quarto pamphlet, as she does not care to give
or sell them to a bookseller, and then she concludes I
will admit him into my catalogue of noble authors.
Her lord, she says, is too much engaged in politics
when at Dublin, and with improvements of his estate
when in the country (which I am told he has improved
to none at all) to assort the poems — and then, as ladies
are abominably said to tell their minds in the postscript,
she orders me to inclose my answer to her lord that
it may come to her free. Thus I may lay out 30/.
or 40/. for her, and she would not give sixpence to
know whether I will or not. I have sent a most
respectful no, and have saved her the sixpence, which
is all I shall save her.
I have received a much more flattering compliment,
and as disinterested as her ladyship's was the contrary.
Mr. Bull, to amuse me I when I was ill, sent me my
royal and noble authors let into four sumptuous folios
in red morocco gilt, with beautiful impressions of almost
all the personages of whom there are prints. As they
came when I was at the worst, I sent him word that
if I might compare little things with great, he put me
in mind of Queen Elizabeth, who laid an Earl's robes
on Lord Hunsdon's death-bed.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 131
Mrs. Siddons continues to be the mode and to be
modest and sensible. She declines great dinners, and
says her business and the cares of her family take up
her whole time. When Lord Carlisle carried her the tri
bute-money from Brookes's, he said she was not ma-
nibre'e enough. " I suppose she was grateful," said my
niece, Lady Maria. Mrs. Siddons was desired to play
Medea and Lady Macbeth. — " No," she replied, " she
did not look on them as female characters." She was
questioned about her transactions with Garrick ; she
said, " he did nothing but put her out ; that he told
her she moved her right hand when it should have
been her left. — In short," said she, " I found I must
not shade the tip of his nose."
Have you seen the last two volumes of Bachau-
mont's "Memoires Secrets," madam, if you have not,
don't give yourself the trouble ; there is but one toler
able trait, but that is charming. They have hung a
room at Ferney with portraits of Voltaire's friends.
Under the Abbe" de Lille, the translator of Virgil, they
have placed this happy application, —
Nulli flebilior quam tibi, Virgili.
They again talk much of peace. Oh ! let it come !
We have lost territories enough, and got heroes enough
in their room ! If it is a bad peace, at least we shall
not be fools for making it ; when we have been, as we
have always been, masters to make as good an one
as we pleased. I don't suppose our enemies will be
as obliging idiots. K 2

132 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
You cannot imagine, madam, how long I have been
engraving this letter. I am in debt for some others,
but my secretary of state must answer them, for I
find our royal breast is as tired as our hand. Yo el Rey.

LETTER CCXXXVI.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 7, 1783.
Though the newspapers have advertised a book
called, "Every Man his own Letter-writer," I doubt
it will not keep me so long. I really have no move
ment in any finger of my right hand, but my thumb ;
and with so serious an excuse, should employ my
secretary, if I were not more ashamed to dictate my
nonsense, as Lady Anne justly calls it, than to write
it. It is no more uneasy to write than to speak the
first foolish thing that comes into one's head ; but to
oblige a third person not only to hear, but transcribe
it, is being such a simpleton in cool blood, that if I
write by proxy, my letters will- have no more non
sense or sense, than those which royal personages send
to one another from the Secretary's Office on births
and deaths.
I have taken the air, and might have done so a
week ago, but was in dread of a relapse. However,
as I am all recovered but my hand, and as I fear
there is no chance of that ever being well again, I
must determine to carry it about in its night-gown,
or stay at home for my short forever.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 133
I know nothing, at least nothing that your lady
ship would care about more than I do. I have a
general notion about treaties of peace, which the
present has not hitherto contradicted. It is, that
when peace is necessary to the mutual views of two
prime-ministers of two hostile nations, it is clapped
up in an instant, the material articles being post
poned, to be adjusted afterwards by Commissaries,
— but that, if they go into discussions, the same
causes remain for dispute and quarrel, that made
the war — and then the treaty breaks off. I hope
that is not the case at present — I am very willing
not to be a prophet in my own country. On pre
tend that certain invisible machines, of which one
heard much a year or two ago, and which were said
to be constructed of cork, and to be worn somewhere
or other behind, are now to be transplanted some
where before, in imitation of the Duchess of Devon
shire's pregnancy, as all under-jaws advanced upon
the same principle. A propos, Lady Jersey desired
Mr. Stonhewer to order me to ask Mr. Hayley what
had cured him when his head was disordered, her
ladyship having a relation in that situation. I sent
her word that I not only was not acquainted with,
but had never seen him, yet I could tell her his
nostrum ; he had been put into a course of breast-
milk, and sucked the nine Muses, and is now as tame
as a lamb.
As this letter, madam, is written entirely in usum of
the Dauphiness Anne, it is long enough — at least

134 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
my hand finds so, which has not attempted a quarter
so much, since I had the honour of writing to your
ladyship last, and now aehes a good deal.

LETTER CCXXXVII.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 29, 1783.
I have had so little to say, madam, and so much
to do in making visits of thanks to the charitable who
visited me in my illness, that I have not been so corre
spondent as usual. I have also been for two days at
Strawberry, where it snowed most of the time. In truth
I have still a more real cause for silence — the lameness
of this hand, which can write but a few lines at a time,
and must rest every quarter of an hour ; so that the
expedition with which I used to dispatch my letters
is quite gone, and they are become a pain instead of
an amusement.
You know, to be sure, madam, that the peace is ar
rived. I cannot express how glad I am. I care not a
straw what the terms are, which I believe I know more
imperfectly than anybody in London. I am not apt to
love details — my wish was to have peace, and the next,
to see America secure of its liberty. Whether it will
make good use of it, is another point. It has an
opportunity that never occurred in the world before,
of being able to select the best parts of every known
constitution ; but I suppose it will not, as too preju-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 135
diced against royalty to adopt it even as a corrective
of aristocracy and democracy, though our system has
proved that every evil had better have two enemies to
contend with than one, as the third may turn the
scale on every emergence ; but when the one defeats
the only other, it is decisive. In short, it is necessary
there should be government, but that government
should be checked as much as those it controls ; for
one man, or a few, or a multitude, are still men, and
consequently not fit to be trusted with unlimited
power. The misfortune is, that men cannot be trusted
with the power of doing right, without having the
power of doing wrong too, and the more you limit
them, the more they pant for greater latitude. How
ever, the more they are limited, the farther they have
to go before they acquire the boundless latitude they
long for. These are some of my visions, which the
experience of all ages and countries has shewn, are
such as scarce ever have been realized. Saturday, 26th.
I had written the above on Wednesday ; but on
seeing our lord on Thursday, did not finish it. Well,
madam, you must hate only the Dutch. The French
and the Spaniards are our good friends, and you may
lawfully speak well even of the Americans, without
being called a rebel and republican, as I was by Marie
Alacoque. I know few of the terms of the prelimina
ries, but that Gibraltar, or Rock-Elliott is still in the
parish of St. Martin's in the Fields. When I do learn

136 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
all the articles, I intend to like all, for I must be so
fair as to say that they will be better than I expected
we should ever obtain. Nay, if the French had not
been as great blunderbusses as we, they might have
reduced us much lower long ago. If Ireland has
slipped out of our yoke too, the French have no title
to boast, who might have had it themselves if they
had thought of it before the volunteers. Now I hope
it will be a perpetual thorn in their sides.
As one is always open to new calamities on the ces
sation of the old, I now expect that one shall be rob
bed and murdered two or three times a day, ay, and
a night, more than ever, on disbanding the army ; and
then we shall have such swarms of French, yes, and
insolent ones too ! What is that to me ? Oh ! a
great deal, madam ; they will come to see Strawberry,
perhaps have recommendations, and I must ask them
to dine ! Is that nothing to a poor superannuated
invalid ?
I know no news — nay, news are but beginning ;
news out of Parliament-tide are fruits out of season,
have not the true flavour. Besides, when Lord Ossory
is in town, I am like a vice-chancellor, who is nobody
when his principal is on the spot. I shall, therefore,
not trespass any longer on his office, but wish your
ladyship good night.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 137

LETTER CCXXXVIII. The Martyrdom, 1783.
Thirdly, madam, if I was never to write to your
ladyship till I have the full and free use of every finger
of my right hand, I should never write again, for I
certainly shall recover none of the four ; and if I could
not move the joint of the thumb, I should not be able
to use a pen at all. As you perceive I can, I hope you
will not disband the four invalids for the sake of old
Colonel Thumb, who begs to die in your service.
Secondly, I do rejoice in the peace, and will, though
I find it grows very unpopular, — and fourthly, I will
not correct my historic errors : I am not apt to recant
my tenets, nor will give up the only King that I have
defended ; especially as I shall never enter the sanctum
sanctorum, where one's religion, like a chameleon, takes
the hue of the place the instant one enters it. One
quality of the chameleon I have, and rejoice in having :
the orbit of my eye allows me to look backward ; other
creeping things only see before them, and think but of
advancing : I keep my eye on what I have always been
and choose to be uniform. It will not be difficult now
to hold out a little while longer.
I was last night at Mrs. Montagu's to hear Le Texier
read "Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme," and was tired to
death ; for though it had merit at first in the infancy
of comedy, it is mere farce, and has no characters.
But the famous phrase struck me as applicable to Cum-

138 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
berland, who has just produced a tragedy in prose ; he
has thought that he had often written verses, and did
not know that he had all his life been writing prose.
We are going to suffer an inundation of French. It
is better at least than an invasion of them, which I
cannot conceive why they have not committed. Have
you seen his Majesty of Prussia's intimation to the
Dutch that he intends to saddle them with the House
of Orange for the sake of preserving their liberty ? I
remember a story of a lady who had a favourite plump
lark, of which she was very fond. On going out of
town, she gave strict orders to her housemaid to take
the tenderest care of it. The woman promised. " No,
I am sure you will neglect it and starve it." " Lord !
madam, how can your ladyship think so ? I assure
you — " " No, I know you will starve it ! " " Come,
I know what I will do ; 1 11 kill it and eat it."
There is an insurrection at Portsmouth of a Scotch
regiment, who will not go and plunder the remainder
of the Indies ; and Lord George Gordon, who is excel
lent at putting out fires, has offered to go and appease
them. How can anybody say that there is a dearth of
virtue and patriotism ?
P.S. Madame de Virri is dead suddenly, as she was
just coming to England.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 139

LETTER CCXXXIX. Berkeley Square, Feb. 8, 1783.
Your Dryads must go into black gloves, madam :
their father-in-law, Lady Nature's second husband, is
dead ! Mr. Brown dropped down at his own door yes
terday. The death of the second monarch of lands
cape is a considerable event to me, the historian of
that kingdom — the political world, I believe, is more
occupied by the resignation of Lord Carlisle ; but the
petty incidents of the red book are much below my
notice, and I care not who is grubbed up or trans
planted. The American war is terminated, to my
great satisfaction, and there end my politics ! I cannot
tap a new chapter ; but am returned to all my old
studies, and read over again my favourite authors on
times past ; you must not be surprised if I should send
you a collection of Tonton's bons-mots : I have found a
precedent for such a work. A grave author wrote a
book on the Hunt of the grand Senechal of Normandy,
and of les dits du bon chien Souillard, qui fut au Roi
Loy de France onzieme du nom. Louis XII., the
reverse of the predecessor of the same name, did not
leave to his historian to celebrate his dog Relais, but
did him the honour of being his biographer himself;
and for a reason that was becoming so excellent a
King. It was pour animer les descendant d'un si
brave chien d se rendre aussi bons que lui, et encore
meilleurs. It was great pity that the Cardinal d'Am-

140 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
boise had no bastard puppies, or to be sure his majesty
would have written his prime-minister's life too for a
model to his successors.
As this is a very gossiping letter about nothings, I
will tell your ladyship an incident that struck me the
other night. Lady Beaulieu thought Lady Albemarle
mourned too long for Lady Vere : Mrs. Hussey said,
" Madam, they were cousin-germans." I scoffed at
Mrs. Hussey, thinking them removed by two or three
generations ; but she was in the right ; Lady Albemarle
is daughter of the first Duke of Richmond, and Lord
Vere was son of the first Duke of St. Albans ; yet
Charles II. has been dead ninety-eight years ; nay,
Lady Albemarle or the Bishop of Hereford may mourn
some years hence for the other. Lady Albemarle
supped at Lady Ailesbury's on Sunday night, drank
two glasses of champagne, and stayed till past one in as
good spirits as ever I saw her.
There has been a more rapid succession in another
family. Several years ago, when Lord Strafford and I
were at Lord Thomond's, we walked to Walden Church
and were shewn in a vault there the coffins of eleven
Earls and Countesses of Suffolk that had died since
1700. With this last earl there have been seven more
since that time. You will not wonder, madam, that I
know no modern news, when I am so deep in the lore
of obituaries ! Your other correspondents will tell
you les dits et gestes du siecle; it is more seemly for
me to concern myself about past generations than about
the rising one.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 141

LETTER CCXL.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 18, 1783 — a great grandchild of 1688.
Pray, madam, do not imagine that I pretend to
send you a cool newspaper, when probably you have
had my intelligence anticipated by a courier : Oh dear,
no ; but as gazetteers think it their regular duty to
specify everything that happens, as well as everything
that does not, though all the world may know both, I
acquaint your ladyship, that at eight this morning
(which eight o'clock was part of yesterday, Monday)
the Administration was defeated on the very same field
where another Administration was routed about this
time twelvemonth, and, which makes the victory more
memorable, the general who was beaten last year, and1
one of the generals who beat him, had joined their
forces to fight the general, who had had a share over
the vanquished one of this time twelvemonth.
This is all that is necessary to be told by me, who
have ceased to be an examiner, and am only a spectator.
I will not distract you with any other news foreign
to the big event of the day. You would listen to
nothing else except conjectures ; and those, though
one cannot help forming them, would be so entirely
coined by my' own brain, that they would not assist
you. I will not even answer any paragraph of your lady
ship's last, except one word about the loyalists. As I
always apply my reflections to my own way of think
ing, that is, consider what operation any great event

142 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
will have in my system, I draw some sweetness from
the dereliction of the loyalists. I do pity sincerely
the conscientious among them, but I trust that this
example will a little cure people of the distemper of
loyalty. If the more zealous the Rubiconians, and
those whose cause they promote against the general
happiness, would ever read, or ever profit by what they
might read, what a lesson would the American war be
against aiming at extending power ! Quieta non movere
was the maxim of a man, who I, who have seen a
good deal, do not think wanted common sense ; Lord
Chatham, no doubt, bought us more glory, but very
dearly. We have paid still dearer for losses and dis
grace. My Quiet Statesman was called the Father of
Corruption, though his political parents and children
had been, and have been full of the same blood. Was
it a capital crime to bribe those on sale to promote the
happiness of themselves and others, to bribe them to
preserve the constitution and make the commerce of
their country flourish? Very different experiments
have been tried since. I beg your pardon, madam, for
wandering back to my own ideas ; but when a revolu
tion happens, it is natural to reflect on those one has
seen. I am a Methusalem from the scenes I have seen ;
yet, t'other day I made an acquaintance with one a
little my senior ; yet we are to be very intimate for a
long time, for my new friend is but ninety-four. It is
General Oglethorpe ; I had not seen him these twenty
years, yet knew him instantly. As he did not recollect
me, I told him it was a proof how little he was altered,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 143
and I how much. I said I would visit him ; he replied,
" No, no ; I can walk better than you ; I will come to
you." He is alert, upright, has his eyes, ears, and
memory fresh. If you want any particulars of the last
century, I can procure them, but I know nothing of
what is to happen to-morrow.
P.S. — I have just seen in the "Public Advertiser" a
passage in a letter from the Emperor to the Pope,
which informs me how little the delegates of Heaven
have occasion to read. Caesar tells St. Peter, " that he
possesses in his own breast a voice which tells what
as legislator- and protector of Religion, he ought to pur
sue or desist from ; and that voice, with the assistance
of divine Grace, and the honest and just character
which he feels in himself, can never lead him into
error." There ! madam, there is imperial infallibility
to some purpose ! Henry VIII. undoubtedly felt the
same inspiration when he became head of our Church ;
and I dare to say, that the Earls of Derby and the
Dukes of Athol, till they sold the Isle of Man, had
exactly, the same unerring feelings. That inward
voice, which the Greeks called Gastromuthos, prattles
to every monarch before he can speak himself, and
did so to Henry VI. in his cradle, though he lived to
lose everything. LETTER CCXLI. March 11, 1783.
I hope, madam, you have been rejoiced at the
appointment of every new prime-minister -that we have

144 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
had for this last fortnight— Mr. W. Pitt, the Duke of
Portland, Lord Temple, Lord Gower, and Lord Thur-
low. There may have been more for aught I know ;
as it is no business of mine, and as Lord Ossory is in
town, I left it to him to make the several notifications ;
and it is well I did, or I might have distracted you, as
I should perhaps have sent you one administration and
he another by the same post. At present there is no
premier at all, at least there was not a quarter of an
hour ago ; nay, they say there never is to be another ;
and, as I am the only unadulterated Whig left in Eng
land, I am prodigiously glad of it. You cannot ima
gine how much better things go on. Seconds, and
thirds, and fourths, execute all business without mo
lestation ; for, as every man thinks himself fit to be
first, nobody condescends to oppose seconds and thirds :
and as seconds and thirds never presume to do more
than their duty, nobody has any fault to find ; and no
mortal ever finds fault without cause. The only pre
sent grievance is, the want of levees and drawing-
rooms. All the world is eager to pay court to their
Sovereign on the abolition of the odious office of
prime-minister ; but as all the world have thronged to
offer their compliments on the accession of every new
premier, their present contradictory homage is justly
disdained ; and, as we can go on without a first lord of
the treasury, we certainly might exist without levees
or drawing-rooms — why do people go to them, but
because they hope to be rewarded by a first lord of the
treasury? In the East, where all are excellent sub-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 145
jects, they scarce ever see their monarch, except at the
mosque or at an oratorio. In short, whether Whig or
Highchurchman, one must be pleased with the present
dispensation ; I am only afraid that, such is our levity,
we shall grow tired of this mundane theocracy when
the novelty is over ; and like the frogs, neither be con
tent with the log, nor the stork, nor the stagnant
pool. I am grown prodigiously older within these two
days, madam. I have been for some time the patriarch
of a long line of nephews and nieces, and of great
nephews and nieces ; yet still, when I had a mind to
give myself juvenile airs, I could say, " I have been to
see my aunt." Alas ! that consolation is gone ! The
old Lady Walpole died on Sunday at eighty-seven.
Did I ever tell your ladyship a trait of her, that was
very respectable ? She was daughter of a French
refugee staymaker. When ambassadress, the late Queen
of France was surprised at her speaking French so
well, and asked her how it happened. She replied,
" Madame, c'est ce que je suis Francoise." — " Vous ! "
said the Queen, "et de quelle famillef" — "B'aucune,
Madame" replied my aunt. Would not one rathe
have made that answer, than have been able to say, a
Montmorenci ? The French ambassadress here at the
same time, who was the tally of my aunt, too, in birth,
and in quickness of reply, though not of such sublime
modesty, was an heiress also of very low extraction.
Tie Marechal de Broglie, her husband, talking of his
children, and to what professions he destined them,
VOL. II. L

146 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
said, " Et pour le cadet, je I'aurois fait Chevalier de
Malte ; mais mddame," pointing to his wife, " nous a
ferine" toutes les portes" She replied, "Oui,jusqu'd celles
de I'hdpital." A propos of bon-mots, has our lord told
you that George Selwyn calls Mr. Fox and Mr. Pitt
" the idle and the industrious apprentices ?" If he has
not, I am sure you will thank me, madam.
Oh ! stay ; there is a prime-minister just made — not
indeed at the head of the treasury, nor one that has
either salary or perquisites, but who consequently
would be much more in earnest in declining the
honour, if he dared : in short, alas ! your ladyship's
gazetteer is grown such a favourite at a certain tiny
Court in Cavendish-square, that he is called to sit at
the board three nights in a week. I really think that
I should accept, if I was sent for to the Queen's house,
if only to recover my liberty, as Lord North set a pre
cedent of being as idle as one pleases.

LETTER CCXLII. March 13, 1783, New Style.
I conclude, in the language of the day, that our
lord has been sent for, and that I shall tell your
ladyship very stale news when I acquaint you that the
Duke of Portland is minister. I should tell you more
than I know if I added another promotion, for, though
I heard that last night, it is now past four in the
afternoon, and, simple as I sit here, I have not learnt,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 147
nay not inquired a syllable more, nor have seen a two-
legged creature to-day but a crooked painter. Perhaps
there is not another gentleman or gentlewoman in
London equally ignorant. Nay, as I go again to my
Court this evening, where we have not the best intelli
gence in the world, it may be to-morrow morning
before I know whether the old Duchess of Portland or
Lord Guilford is to be Queen Dowager — the most
important point to me, as they are my play-fellows. I
sat with the former candidate till past eleven last
night at Mrs. Delany's, and had a mind to ask for
Margaret my housekeeper to be necessary woman
instead of Jenkinson, with a pension of only a thousand
a-year, which, according to Colonel Barrels way of cal
culating, she might have had, if my father had con
tinued prime-minister to this time.
I think your ladyship may now steal into Grosvenor-
place, without hearing odd man called over the way. As
soon as all the sorties and entrees have been made, and
the several parties have visited reciprocally, things will
fall into their usual channel, and the nearest relations
will not hate one another more than usual. Nay,
" amidst the changes and chances of this mortal life "
(a phrase which one should think had been coined at
Brookes's), the reverse of an old proverb has just taken
date. The dearest friends must part was an obvious
and trite old saying ; the bitterest foes may embrace is
newer, and not so trist a reflection : I love gay and
good-humoured maxims. If the refinements of society
have corrupted the heart, they have, at least, improved
L 2

148 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
the temper. There are no deadly feuds now. People
love and hate one another so often, that they go into
friendship or out, as easily as into or out of mourning ;
and, within this twelvemonth, for almost as short a
time. Pray, madam, don't be so vulgar as to stay in
the country, because there is somebody or other here
that you -are afraid of meeting. What an old-fashioned
prejudice ! Does one like anybody the less, because
one dislikes that person ? There is not a monarch in
Europe that cannot conquer his aversion in seventeen
days ; and shall a subject be allowed greater latitude ?
I know your ladyship's are not antipathies, but very
contrary awkwardnesses ; but you must get over them.
Lions and lambs, doves and serpents, now trot in the
same harness, and it does one's heart good to see
them. They will all go into the ark together on
Monday, the sun will shine, and some evanescent
rainbow will promise that the ministry shall never
be drowned again.
Here ends the first chapter of Exodus, which, in
Court Bibles, always precedes Genesis.

LETTER CCXLIII. March 16, 1783.
When Lord Ossory is in town, madam, I shall
certainly not pretend to send you politics; no, not
even abortions of them. At any time I know none but
what I learn by sitting here behind the bar of my own

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 149
coffee-house. Indeed I only write now to say that you
extended the ideas of my last farther than I meant ; I
only alluded to a house very near me,* whither I
thought it might be awkward to you to go just at this
turn of the tide. I shall say nothing more on any
such subject. You ought to and must judge by your
own feelings.
I do not well recollect how I applied Exodus before
Genesis in my last, and believe it was too far fetched,
as it appeared an enigma. I think it was used on the
change of the ministry, and that I referred to the de
rivation of the two words, which are Greek. Exodus
signifies a going out, and Genesis a generation. Now
a new ministry cannot be born till the old is gone
out ; and therefore, in the Red Book or Court Bible,
Exodus must precede Genesis. I find that much learn
ing had made Paul mad, and that I talked nonsense
by talking Greek. I will not be so apostolic again
when I am speaking on heathen topics.
As I have not much faith, madam, in sentiments
after matrimony, I suspect that your Bedfordshire
husband, who would not go to see Mrs. Siddons with
out his wife, is a hypocrite, and meant to persuade her
that he never saw any woman in Drury Lane without
her being present.
I don't know whether I ought to afflict your lady
ship with the dreadful account I received last night
from Sir Horace Mann of the devastation of Sicily and
Calabria, nor where you will find horror enough ade-
* Lansdowne House. — Ed.

150 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
quate to the calamity! What do you think of one
hundred and thirty two cities, towns, and castles totally
destroyed ? This is literally sweeping
" Towns to the grave, and nations to the deep."
There are vanished besides, two islands and a whole
river ! One Calabrian prince has lost seventeen manors!
Mr. Swinburne is become an antediluvian historian.
Nunc seges est ubi Troja fuit ! How diminutive does
a change of ministry appear, when nature overturns two
countries in a couple of nights !

LETTER CCXLIV.

Berkeley Square, April 5, 1783.
You know I do not wait for answers, madam,
when I have anything worth telling you. In truth I
go so very little into the world, that unless I hear news
in my own room, I know but a small part of what is
passing. Of late I have been quite tired of rumours
and false reports ; nor could give accounts of an egg
that might be hatched or addled the next hour ; and
which, though set under a brood hen, I could not tell
but might produce a goose or a guinea fowl. Besides,
Lord Ossory could give you much quicker intelligence
than I, and more authentic : nor at this moment can I
specify the preferments but of those who have actually
kissed hands. Yet of one thing I am sure, which is,
that General Conway is delighted with Mr. Fitzpatrick's

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 151
being secretary at war, and will do everything he can
to accommodate him.
I hope you were not alarmed at the attempt on your
house. I do expect that we shall neither be safe at
home nor abroad. Everything proves that man is an
aurivorous animal, and will have its food wherever it
grows. I heard and saw the Misses Fitzpatrick t'other night,
and they assured me your ladyship will be in town at
the end of this month. I own, as you have stayed so
long, I doubt it, but shall be happy to be mistaken.
The weather is so delicious, that I propose going tq
Strawberry next week for some days, and unless it
changes to cold, to be chiefly there. I grow so anti
quated and superannuated, that I am fit for nothing
but to be laid up in my own Gothic collection. My
politics ended with the American war ; I shall tap none
more. The greatest folly in my eyes is that of old
people who cling to the last plank, when they may be
washed off by the next wave.

LETTER CCXLV.Berkeley Square, April 17, 1783.
I am a little of your ladyship's opinion, that the
new administration is not founded upon a rock ; how
ever, if they fall, I see no reason for expecting any
other to be more permanent. The cards have been so
thoroughly shuffled, that it will require several deals
before they get into suits again.

152 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
I know nothing, madam, that will make a paragraph.
I have been for three days at Strawberry, which does
not brighten my intelligence ; but you are coming
yourself, and I believe will not find that I am particu
larly ignorant. All I have heard, except politics, of
which I am tired, is, that Lady Frances Scott is to be
married to Mr. Douglas, the Douglas. She was a great
friend of Lady Lucy, and it is a proof of his sense,
that he can forgive her person in favour of her merit.
In a dearth of English novelties, perhaps, madam,
you may be willing to learn the latest mode at Paris.
It is, to speak broken French — not to ridicule Britons,
but in lowly imitation of us. I conclude the Duke of
Manchester will be elected into the French Academy
on the recommendation of his barbarisms. Well, it is
consolatory in our fall to be still admired and aped !
The Due de Chartres is coming to study us, as Pytha
goras and Solon travelled to Egypt, and I hope will
carry back every monkey-worship that he finds estab
lished on the banks of the Thames. Oh ! I fib ; Lord
Mount- Edgecumbe has just been here, and says, the
King of France, He in France, will not allow the Due
de Chartres to come hither, as the Count d'Artois has
the same ambition of improving himself, and no King
can like to be outshone by all the younger branches of
his family. I am sorry Lady Anne will not see those
two Rajahpouts driving themselves in gigs to Ranelagh.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 153

LETTER CCXLVI.
Berkeley Square, April 25, 1783.
Unless you have a mind to be Bishop of Norwich,
madam, I can give you no reason for hastening your
arrival before Monday — not that I should fling cold
water on your coming sooner were I to be in town my
self ; but I shall go to Strawberry to-morrow — though
the weather is as bitter as it always is in Newmarket
week — and not return but for my Princess's Monday;
and consequently shall not have the honour of kissing
your ladyship's hand till Tuesday.
It is not I, but young Mr. Horatio, who has kissed
hands for a place in Chelsea College ; for though / am
much fitter for a hospital, it is not my intention to go
to one through Court. Another of my kin has arrived,
Mr. Robert Walpole, from Portugal, and has brought a
wife, who is to efface all Venuses and Helens past or
present. I have not yet seen her, but mean to do so
soon, lest she should be poisoned by some of the reign
ing beauties who have views on the Prince of Wales.
I have just heard that Lord Hardwicke is dead. I
am not sure it is true, yet it is probable. Soame
Jenyns, whom I saw last night at Mrs. Delany's, said
he was very ill and kept his bed. They were talking
of the new administration ; Jenyns said he hoped it
would last at least as long as it had been in forming.
In truth, I question whether it will be very vivacious.
If satirical prints could dispatch them, they would be

154 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
dead in their cradle ; there are enough to hang a room.
The last I think the best ; it is called, " Heads of a
new Wig Administration on a broad bottom." It is
better composed than ordinary, and has several cir
cumstances well imagined. The designer is one Sayer,
a Norfolk lawyer, who drew the single figures of several
members of Parliament. The woman who keeps the
printshop in Bruton-street, whence these hieroglyphics
issue, says she has engraved all the drawings that
are sent to her, and that she gets by them, one with
another, ten pounds a-piece. I hope you were charmed,
madam, by the figure of the young maiden, in Mr.
Bunbury's " Robin Gray."
I rejoice that our correspondence ends here, for this
season, madam. How glad I shall be on Tuesday, to
say, " Go to Grosvenor Place !"

LETTER CCXLVII. Berkeley Square, June 20, 1783.
I did suspect, madam, from the sort of com
mendations that I heard bestowed, and from the sort
of persons who bestowed them, that I should not be
much edified by the improvements of Hatfield. The
earl and countess did me the honour of inviting me
to see them two years ago; but as I neither love
to flatter nor disoblige, I have not been — and twa
years have certainly not made me more of a going
disposition. Brocket Hall I never did see, and nothing

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 155
has made me more going thither. When I play for
green gowns with fair nymphs, they are not of the
coterie of the nymphs and swains that I should meet
there, il s'en faut beaucoup. Lord Chewton won the
prize, and consequently there would be no gallantry
in the case.
I came to town yesterday, expecting, like Cibber,
to meet the Revolution, but I am told that all is re
adjusted. I am glad of it ; I wish the present Ad
ministration to last, which is not often the colour of
my inclination towards Ministries.
The month of June has been as abominable as any
one of its ancestors in all the pedigree of the Junes. I
was literally half-drowned on Sunday night. It rained
through two stories, and into the Green Closet at
Strawberry, and my bed-chamber was wet to its smock.
The gutters were stopped, or could not carry off the
deluge fast enough. Margaret prayed to St. Rainbow,
but as he never appears till it is too late, we were
forced to have recourse to mortal help, and litter all
the floors with hay to soak up the inundation.
I had a worse woe the next night. The house of
De Guines had notified to Lady Ailesbury their in
tention of visiting Strawberry, and she had proposed
to bring them to breakfast. At first I refused, but
reflecting that they might invade me unawares, like
the Due de Chartres, I had agreed that she should
bring them yesterday ; but, lo ! on Monday morning
Lady Pembroke wrote to me that she would bring
them to drink tea that evening. I told her my ar-

156 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
rangement, but left it to her option to do as she
pleased. From dinner-time I sat at the window watch
ing for them, and taking every old woman with a
basket on her head for a coach and six. It rained
all the time, as it had done the preceding evening.
At last, at half an hour after seven, as I had left it
to their option, and the night was so bad and dark,
I concluded they had given it up, and called for my
tea — but, alas ! at a quarter before eight the bell rang
at the gate — and, behold, a procession of the duke,
his two daughters, the French Ambassador, (on whom I
had meant to sink myself,) Lady Pembroke, Lord Her
bert, and Lord Robert. The first word M. de Guines
said was to beg I would shew them all I could — imagine
madam, what I could shew them when it was pitch
dark! Of all houses upon earth, mine, from the painted
glass and over-hanging trees, wants the sun the most,
besides the Star Chamber and passage being obscured
on purpose to raise the gallery. They ran their fore
heads against Henry VII., and took the grated door of
the Tribune for the dungeon of the castle. I mustered
all the candlesticks in the house, but before they could
be lighted up, the young ladies, who, by the way, are
extremely natural, agreeable, and civil, were seized
with a panic of highwaymen, and wanted to go. I
laughed and said, I believed there was no danger, for
that I had not been robbed these two years. How
ever, I was not quite in the right ; they were stopped
in Knightsbridge by two footpads, but Lady Pembroke

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 157
having lent them a servant besides their own unique,
they escaped — and so much for the French and the
rain : I wish the latter were as near going as the
former ! To-morrow I dine at Gunnersbury, and then
I hope my troubles will be over for the summer.
I called on Lady Frances Douglas, but could not
deliver your ladyship's commands, for she was just
going to town to be presented, and did not let me in.

LETTER CCXLVIII. Strawberry Hill, July 15, 1783.
I was in town last week, madam, and just as I
was returning, was told poor Mr. Morrice was dead, and
Miss Howe has heard so too ; but as I have not seen
it yet in the papers, I would flatter myself it is not
true, for the only truths which the newspapers tell, are
those which will give concern to anybody. I am sorry
your ladyship has suffered so much by the heat — for
me, I am below all weather, for none affects me. If
it could, it would during the two days I passed in
London, where I was forced to meet Lord Orford's
lawyers. Indeed, as much as I love to have summer
in summer, I am tired of this weather —
The dreaded east is all the wind that blows,
it parches the leaves, makes the turf crisp, claps the
doors, blows the papers about, and keeps one in a
constant mist that gives no dew, but might as well be
smoke. The sun sets like a pewter plate red hot ;

158 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
and then in a moment appears the moon, at a dis
tance, of the same complexion, just as the same orb
in a moving picture serves for both. I wish modern
philosophers had not disturbed all our ideas! two
hundred good years ago celestial and terrestrial affairs
hung together, and if a country was out of order it
was comfortable to think that the planets ordered, or
sympathized with its ails. A sun shorn of his beams,
and a moon that only serves to make darkness visible,
are mighty homogenial to a distracted state ; and
when their Ministry is changed every twelve hours,
without allaying the heat or mending the weather,
Father Holinshed would have massed the whole in
the casualties of the reign, and expected no better till
he was to tap a new accession.
As I have meditated so profoundly on the season,
you will perceive, madam, that I had nothing else to
talk of, and consequently did not write till I had
some answer to make. With your letter I received
one from Lord Chewton to tell me the birth of his
daughter, for which event I was anxious. I do not
mean that I wished it a girl, nor affect the apathy of
the Duke of Devonshire, for though Lord Chewton is
no king of the peak, a boy can shift better than a poor
girl. However, dear Lady Chewton is perfectly well,
and I am easy.
News I have heard none this month, but the deaths
of Irish peeresses, Lady Middleton and Lady Gage ;
but as Hibernian peers spring up like mushrooms, or
are mushrooms, I suppose there will be as great plenty

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 159
of ermine in that country as ever, — perhaps soon of
their own growth, without a drawback from our Cus
tom House ! Here, I am told, no more is to be issued.
As the sun's train is much curtailed, I suppose he
thinks he has stars enough around him : but to change
the topic I was glad that the late chancellor and his
virtue were dragged through the kennel.
I must shift the subject once more, and talk of
another no better, myself, or finish my letter. I
have given one or two dinners to blue stockings, and
one pedigree dinner to my cousin, the Portuguese
beauty, and her husband, and his two nephews, Ho
ratio and Thomas ; and I have been again commanded
to Gunnersbury, where I found Prince William. He
had been with the princess in the morning, and re
turned of his own accord to dinner. She presented
me to him, and I attempted, at the risk of tumbling
on my nose, to kiss his hand, but he would not let
me. You may trust me, madam, who am not apt to
be intoxicated with royalty that he is charming.
Lively, cheerful, talkative, manly, well-bred, sensible,
and exceedingly proper in all his replies. You may
judge how good humoured he is, when I tell you that
he was in great spirits all day, though with us old
women — perhaps he thought it preferable to Windsor !
Another day the Jerninghams brought to see my
house — whom do you think ? only a Luxembourg, a
Lusignan, and a Montfort ! I never felt myself so
much in the Castle of Otranto. It sounded as if a
company of noble Crusaders were come to sojourn

160 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
with me before they embarked for the Holy Land.
Still I was a very uncourteous chdtelain. I did not
appear. In short, Mr. Mason, whom I had not seen for
a year, was at dinner with me, and was to pass but
that one day with me — cedant arma toga —I preferred
the heroic epistle to a troop of heroes : that is, the
supposed author of the one to what I do not suppose
the others.
You bid me watch my purse, madam, when 1 am in
good company. In truth I am not apt to watch it :
yet without my taking the smallest precaution to guard
it, it has escaped through two houses full of the best
company in England, and in which there were bishops
too. Alas ! here is half my letter about myself, and half
of that about what I have not been doing. It shews
how antiquated I am, and how little I know. To
complete my personal journal, I send you a vile pun
of my own making. Miss Pope has been at Mrs.
Olive's this week, and I had not been able to call on
them. I wrote a line of excuse, but hoped very soon
to salute Miss Pope's eye. Excuse my radotage — but
what better can you expect ?

LETTER CCXLIX.

Strawberry Hill, Wednesday evening, July 23.
As your ladyship interests yourself about Mr.
Morrice, these are to certify you that he is alive ; and

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 161
I dare to say merry. Mr. Towneley, uncle of the
statuarist, and with whom I once dined at the Grove,
came to see my house yesterday, and left word that
Mr. Morrice is not only not dead, but better, and at
Lausanne, and purposes to winter at Naples ; which
methinks is risking his life at least as much as trying
to preserve it, for the earthquakes do not seem at all
to have retired into their own channel.
I have been in town to see Lady Chewton, and
found her excellent well, and suckling her infanta with
out mercy. I believe she will be a more staid nurse
than the Duchess of Devonshire, who probably will
stuff her poor babe into her knotting bag when she
wants to play at macao, and forget it.
More French are just come to see the house, a Vi-
count and Marquis de St. Chamant and a Baron de
Montesquieu. I could not leave the blue room to
their sight, for I have the gout to-day both in my
ankle and left hand, but I think it will not be a fit,
for the pain is already gone, though it came but in
the night. Are you not prodigiously glad, madam,
that somebody whom you never saw, is dead at the
farthest end of the globe ? My neighbours at Twick
enham are overjoyed at the death of Hyder Aly, who,
I suppose, they think lived in Lombard-street.
My visitors are gone already : it is literally true
that they arrived while I was writing the last para
graph but one, and went away as I finished the last,
though I certainly do not write slowly. They are
gone to Hampton Court, and return to France to-
VOL. II. M

162 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
morrow. Don't you like seeing a house in the time
one can write eight lines ; and a country, in less than
one can wash one's hands ? I wish all who come to
see my house stayed no longer.

LETTER CCL. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 4, 1783.
It is shameful, madam, to keep a letter unan
swered that came kindly to ask how I did; but, good
Lord ! I hate to write, when I have no other, no better
topic than myself. My last was filled with nothing
else ; for alas a day ! it is all I know ! and never
was anything less worth knowing or repeating ! The
sultry season did me a great deal of good and a great
deal of harm. It agreed with me like a charm ; but
the nights were so hot, that I left off or kicked off
all covering, and first I caught the gout in my ankle,
then the rheumatism in my shoulder, and so was
exceedingly well, except that I could not move hand
or foot. Still I love to have summer in summer, and
as our doggest days never produce earthquakes nor
make us swallow shoals of insects with every mouthful,
I never complain of them — not but I do think I felt an
earthquakeling a fortnight ago, between four and five
in the morning, but it was a poor rickety thing, and
could not have thrown down a house of cards. I hope
the plague with which we are threatened de par le
Roi, will prove as arrant a miscarriage. The Semi-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 163
ramis of the North, the devil take her, has fetched
it to this side of the globe, and it may be added to
the catalogue of her great exploits, which the French
Academicians so much admire. I know the plague is
not so horrid a thing as some people imagine — at
least, Boccace chose such a period as a delicious one
for telling stories. He makes a select company of
young gentlemen and ladies shut themselves up in a
country house, and relate novels to pass away the
time, while all their relations and friends were swept
away by cart-loads in the city.
Have you seen Lord Carlisle's tragedy, madam ? He
has been so good as to send it to me. It has great
merit ; the language and imagery are beautiful, and
the two capital scenes are very fine. The story is
Sigismonda and Guiscard, but he has much improved
the conduct, and steered clear of the indelicacy and
absurdity of the original, which did not stop Dryden,
who, knowing that he could tell anything delight
fully, did not mind what he told ; or how could he
have thought of making an old king sleep behind a
bed instead of upon it ? There are some parts that
might be mended, and a situation or two too like what
has been seen on the stage ; yet I am sure your lady
ship will admire most of it. Do not imagine that I
am prejudiced by the compliment of its being sent to
me. I have read it twice, carefully, and liked it better
the second time than the first.
I hear often of Lady Chewton, and perfectly good
accounts, but I have not seen her since the first week,
M 2

164 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
for I should be burnt as black as an Etruscan vase, if
I went to my house in Berkeley Square, in this weather
— no disrespect to this day se'nnight, surely, madam,
last Saturday was still nearer to the torrid zone. I
begin to think that the Rumbolds and Co. have robbed
the Indies of their climate as well as of their gold and
diamonds, and brought it home in ingots. You hoped
that Hyder Aly would have extirpated our banditti —
do not fear, madam ; I believe it will not be long
before we are outcasts, like the Jews, and become
pedlars like them, up and down the earth, with no
country of our own.
I saw Captain Waldegrave at Lady Chewton's, and
he was quite recovered of his accident ; but I know
nothing of him since.
I must tell you an excellent reply of a person your
ladyship scarce knows, and I, not at all. Lord Lewis-
ham lately gave a dinner to a certain electoral prince,
who is in England, and at which d la mode de son pays
they drank very hard. The conversation turned on
matrimony : the foreign altesse said he envied the
Dukes of Devon and Rutland, who, though high and
mighty princes too, had been at liberty to wed two
charming women whom they liked ; but for his part
he supposed he should be forced to marry some ugly
German B  -, I forget the other letters of the word
— and then turning to the Irish Master of the Rolls,
asked what he would advise him to do ? " Faith, sir,"
said the-anaster, " I am not yet drunk enough to give
advise to a prince of  about marrying." I think

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 165
it one of the best answers I ever heard. How many
fools will think themselves sober enough to advise his
altesse on whatever he consults them !
A propos to matrimony, I want to consult your
ladyship very seriously : I am so tormented by droves
of people coming to see my house, and Margaret gets
such sums of money by shewing it, that I have a
mind to marry her, and so repay myself that way for
what I have flung away to make my house quite
uncomfortable to me. I am sure Lord Denbigh would
have proposed to her had he known of her riches ;
and I doubt Margaret could not have resisted the
temptation of being a countess more than Lady Hol-
ford. She certainly can never have a more disagree
able suitor : and therefore I grow every day more in
danger of losing her and all her wealth. Mr. Wil
liams said this morning that Margaret's is the best
place in England, and wondered Mr. Gilbert did not
insist on knowing what it is worth. Thank my stars
he did not ! Colonel Barre, or Lord Ashburton would
propose to suppress housekeepers, and then humbly
offer to shew my house themselves, and the first would
calculate what he had missed by not having shewn it
for the last ten years, and expect to be indemnified ;
for virtue knows to a farthing what it has lost by not
having been vice. Good night, madam ; my poor
rheumatic shoulder must go to bed.

166 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCLI.
Strawberry Hill, Aug. 27, 1783.
I am sorry to hear, my lady, that the plague is
broke loose in Bedfordshire ; it has been here, and
now rages much. I heard so many histories of it
t'other night at Twickenham Park, that recollecting I
had eaten a vast deal of fruit, I stopped at the apothe
cary's as I came home, and made him give me a glass
of peppermint-water. I don't know why I thought
my own disorders preferable, or why one more should
signify. I have a constant rheumatic fever every
night, which ruins my sleep, though almost all I have
lived upon for a century; but how can one talk of
one's-self after you have told me such a tragical story !
and when half Italy is smoking in ruins ! Even my
Lilliputian earthquake was true, for others felt it. I
don't know how I missed seeing the meteor and its
young ones, for I was sitting over against the window.
We were better in our old-fashioned summers when
sitting up to our knees in rain.
If your ladyship makes apologies for writing of
weather and epidemic illnesses from Bedfordshire, I
ought to make them tenfold from Twickenham, where
our old marketwomen used to have other commodities
to traffic with ; and yet I know no more than a
county club — except that Craufurd has been robbed in
Oxford Road in a hackney-coach at ten at night. He
lost twenty guineas, and his pocket-book ; and as he

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 167
has always presence of mind enough to be curious,
Hare says that he said to the highwayman, " You
must have taken other pocket-books : could not you
let me have one instead of mine V
I believe part of my fever is owing to being dis
turbed every morning. I do all I can to be forgotten,
but my wicked house, like a fine tomb, draws crowds
hither, without letting me rest in it. The complexion
of my latter days is certainly not of the hue 1 pro
posed ; it was not in my plan to live with princes
and princesses, or to keep an inn. A Prince de Hes-
senstein has lately been to dine here. My first ac
quaintance with him was odd ; he was then only called
count. The last time but one that I was at Paris, and
with Madame du Deffand, they announced, as I thought,
Monsieur le Count d'Estaing ; I was rejoiced to see a
man of whom I had heard so much. A cordon bleu
entered. When he was gone I said he was a very dif
ferent kind of man from what I had expected — "And
what did you expect ? and why did you expect any
thing?" said Madame du Deffand. I explained my
reasons ; she said this was not Count d'Estaing, but de
Hessenstein, a natural son of the old King of Sweden —
very well : — two years afterwards the same thing hap
pened, and a different cordon bleu entered. Now I
thought I was quite sure I had got the true D'Estaing ;
but lo ! this second was another son of the same king ;
and this is he that has been here.
Since my letters are forced to live upon old stories,
I will tell you another, madam, that I had from Mr.

168 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Cambridge this morning. A Sir Blundel Carlton, as
great a fool as the outset of his christian name seemed
to promise, was addressed for charity by an old woman,
who had nursed him. He would give her nothing.
She urged her care and tenderness, and how well she
had brought him up. He fell into a passion, and
swore she had been his greatest foe. " They tell me,'
said he, " that I was the finest child in the world, and
that you changed me at nurse."
I hope Lady Ella Fitzpatrick was a changeling too ;
I should be mortified to have had any genuine Fitz
patrick escape me, who have the honour of being
genealogist to the family, and who have studied the
MSS. of O'Bull King-at-Arms to the Milesian Mo
narchy before they had any arms, or he could write or
read. I beg George Selwyn would confine himself to
his own province, and concern himself only with those
upstarts, the Howards and Douglases, and not meddle
with the Fitzpatricks, who are so ancient that the best
Irish antiquaries affirm that they reckoned many
generations before the first man was created ; but I
will command my passion, lest I should not have a
good night's rest. LETTER CCLII. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 9, 1783.
I doubt my answers to your ladyship's questions
will be a little stale as well as unsatisfactory, for I have
been absent eight days, in order to try change of air for

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 169
my nightly fever. I began to fancy that Strawberry
did not agree with me, and went to Park-place, but to
no purpose ; but to convince myself that if Twickenham
does not suit me, no other country air is better, the only
two good nights I have had these six weeks being two I
passed in London. Nor is this the first experience I have
had of the kind, as I never am out of order but I mend
much sooner in town than anywhere else, — no very
grateful discovery, after having meant this place for
my latter days, and trimmed it accordingly.
Be assured, madam, that the story of the pocket-book
was Mr. Hare's — at least not mine. He has a great deal
too much wit for me to presume to deck myself in his
plumes, I who am a jackdaw to him. Lady Di. told
me the story. Of Sir Blundel I reported all I knew,
and my author too. I almost wish you had not paid
me with the catastrophe of Mrs. Hesse's family. I have
lately heard but too many tragedies. Sir William
Hamilton was at Park-place, and gave us the full details
of the Calabrian devastation, and more than he chose to
insert in his book : of which one dreadful instance shall
suffice : — Many crushed wretches perished, because the
priests insisted on having the rubbish of churches re
moved first to deliver the consecrated wafers, who, they
ought to have supposed, were capable of helping them
selves. I must be negative too, madam, to all your other
queries. I was not well enough to go to Lady Chewton's
christening. I have not seen the princess since her
nephew dined with her, though like you I have heard

170 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
how great a favourite he is. I know nothing of Mrs.
Johnson's letter, nor of the mock royalty at Hatfield, but
what you are so good as to tell me. George Lord Bristol
used to play at drawing-rooms in the same manner at
Ickworth, and ask if the parsons and neighbours loved
walking or riding. I do not wonder that people are
servile courtiers, when they delight in aping the insi
pidity of levies themselves. One must reverence an
ignis fatuus, if one should be glad to be a glowworm
oneself. There is little good that is new in Atterbury's pieces,
madam, as you have found yourself by this time.
Blair's criticisms I have not seen ; Beattie's nauseated
me. Of the Dauphin's life I have not heard. Of
the lives of abortive kings I had a surfeit, too, in
"Birch's Life of Prince Henry." A Black Prince
happens but once in a millennium.
As, at Park-place, I was within eighteen miles, I
made a visit to Lord and Lady Harcourt, and was
much pleased with poor Browne's alteration of the
house and improvements of the place, as much as I
could see of them, for there was such a tempest during
the two days and a half that I was there, that I could
stir out of the house but for one hour ; but I went to
my passion, Oxford, and saw Sir Joshua's " Nativity."
But, alas ! it is just the reverse of the glorious appear
ance it made in the dark chamber in Pall-mall. It is
too high, the antichapel where it is placed is too
narrow to see it but fore-shortened, and the washy
virtues found it are so faint and light, that the dark

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 171
shepherds and chiaro scuro, that are meant to relieve
the glory, child, and angels, obscure the whole. I foresaw,
long ago, that Jarvis's colours, being many of them
not transparent, could not have the effect of old painted
glass. Indeed, to see his window tolerably, I was
forced to climb into the organ-loft, by such a pair
of stairs, that, not having broken my neck, I can
almost believe that I could dance a minuet on a horse
galloping full speed, like young Astley, — for I have
seen young Astley, when I was in town last, and
henceforth shall believe that nothing is impossible,
nay, shall wonder if flying is not brought to perfection,
and if Bishop Wilkins does not prove as great a pro
phet of arts as Sir Francis Bacon. How awkward will a
dancer be, for the future, that has not consummate grace
on a plain firm floor ! But, though Mercury did not
tread the air with more sovereign agility than the son,
it was the father I contemplated with most admiration !
What a being, who dared to conceive that he could
make horses dance, and any horse dance, and that
men, women, and children might be trained to possess
themselves on, over, round the rapidity of two, three,
four racehorses, and neither tremble for their necks,
nor forget one attitude that is becoming ! When he
can collect whole troops of such agents, form and
command them, I look on him with the reverence
that I should have for the legislator of society in
its infancy, for a Mango Capac or a Zoroaster. Dr.
Franklin and Marshal Washington will sink in my
esteem, if the Congress and the Colonies are not ren-

172 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
dered as docile as Astley's Hounhyhnms. A master
genius, I see can do anything. Impossibilities are
difficulties only to those who want parts.

LETTER CCLIII. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 27, 1783.
The last I heard of the plan of their Highnesses
of Gloucester was, that they intended to winter in
Provence : if they have changed their purpose, it is
more than I know. The Churchills were delighted
with Nancy ; but then, I think, King Stanilas was
living ; now, I conclude, both Nancy and Luneville
are fallen into the state of other little capitals that
have become appendices to greater, are grown poorer,
and keep up a melancholy kind of pride in lamenting
the better days they remember. But, madam, why
are you inquisitive about Nancy ? I fear you cast
a look that way ! I shall be very sorry ! It is the sad
lot of long life to outlive one's friends : but must I
part with them before I go ! Well, the less one has to
regret, perhaps the easier is the passage ; indeed, my
pleasures are already not too extatic.
The bark, as your ladyship says happened in your
neighbourhood, did cure my fever, indeed, like a spell ;
I took a dose but two hours before I went to bed, and
yet slept all night. I cannot say my rheumatism is
as tractable ; it maintains its post like General Elliot,
and I suppose will not remove till superseded by
Governor Gout.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 173
I never saw Apthorpe, madam, nor is your account
inviting. Old mansions papered and laid open are
like modern ancient ladies in Polonoises and with bare
necks ; they are neither respectable nor comfortable,
but make one wish them demolished and changed for
younger structures. The facade of Peterborough is
noble, and in great taste ; I have seen it twice.
I did not know who were the competitors for the
vice-embassy : the papers named Mr. Storer. Mr.
Gibbon, I heard, was going abroad for three years ;
but, as you see, madam, I can only answer your ques
tions by pleading ignorance ; I should not be less
informed if I lived in Siberia ; nay, there new exiles
would, at least, tell me what had passed since my
time ; but the strangers that visit my dwelling I do not
even exchange a word with ; and whatever the papers
tell me rather creates in me disbelief. I remember
how false they were when I lived in the world, and I
have not yet fallen into that common practice of the
ancient, to believe them only because I know nothing
more true. Indifference and content I believe are, as
well as age, the causes of my want of curiosity. I like
the present Administration, and would not have it
changed ; but the humiliated state of this country
makes me rather avoid all thoughts of politics. My
English or selfish pride is mortified at seeing the deca
dence of our empire. While I was angry at the authors,
resentment served for spirits— now I am numbed and
careless. Others, I find, have not contracted my torpor, nor is

174 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
it natural that the young should. They seem as eager
for honours as when we were at our meridian ; but I
could not help smiling at the King's showering Irish
peerages. Is not it a little like the old Pretender com
forting himself for the loss of a crown by bestowing
pinchbeck coronets ? I wish some of the engineers of
the American war were to be created dukes of New
England, and earls of Boston and Charlestown ; and
that since they have been so unlike the Romans, who
acquired the titles of Africani for conquering hostile
countries, our Machiavels were to be denominated from
the provinces that they have lost.
Have you seen Lord Aldborough's foolish and con
temptible pamphlet, madam ? As his wife could not
persuade me to print her father's works, and though no
peer, enrol him amongst the noble authors, I suppose
she determined her lord should be one in spite of my
teeth, and in spite of Nature's too. She is welcome,
for I am out of the scrape ; I keep no register of living
scribblers. The sextons of next age may bury the dead
of this.

LETTER CCLIV.

Strawberry Hill, Oct. 9, 1783.
Madam my lady, you have set me a task that poses
me, and I must go and rub up my memory. No wonder
I did not speak of the " Walpoliana" — why it is two or
three years since it was printed, and I had quite forgot

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 175
it. I saw it on a person's table, and was interrupted
before I had finished the last two pages ; I found it
such a flimsy thing, that I never inquired after it more.
I can now not recollect enough to give you much ac
count of it. All I do recollect is, that I thought it like
all the other water-gruel that Lord Hardwicke has
published, only with this merit, that the former insipid
messes were doled about in leaden kettles, and this is
contained in a pewter firkin. It is told with the gos
siping importance of an old story-teller, who loves to
repeat what he has seen or heard, without judg
ing whether his anecdotes are worth hearing. The
only passage of consequence that I remember is the
manner of my father's getting the better of Lord
Wilmington at the late King's accession; and that is
represented with the utmost ignorance of all the cir
cumstances that made it curious.
If it was Lord Grantham that wanted to know my
opinion, pray don't tell him how poor a dab I think it,
for I like Lord Grantham, and do not want to acquaint
him that I think, as he must do in his heart, that his
papa is an old Goody, and never was any better — which
he may not suppose ; besides, the thing is a very harm
less thing, and would really be very well for any old
servant of my father to have written, who was proud of
boasting of what his master had said to him or before
him. I rejoice to hear that your ladyship's Equip4e to
Nancy is not determined ; however, I will not lose
my " De Tristibus" that I had prepared on the occa-

176 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
sion. I remember a Mr. Seward, (father of the present
muse of Lichfield,) who was travelling governor to Lord
Charles Fitzroy, who falling dangerously ill at Genoa,
and being saved, as Mentor thought, by Dr. Shadwell,
the governor whipped up to his chamber and began a
complimentary ode to the physician; but was called
down before it was finished, on his pupil's relapse, who
did die ; however, the bard was too much pleased with
the debut of his poem to throw it away, and so finished
it, though his gratitude had been still-born.
My lamentation is no ode ; and though I hope its
foundation will be still-born too, yet being perfected
before I knew so much you shall have it, as I believe it
much superior to Mr. Seward's Pindaric. Mine is Des
Couplets, in imitation of Monsieur de Coulanges, who
had a marvellous facility of writing foolish songs and
epigrams on any or no occasion, and I flatter myself
that I have caught his manner very happily : —
i.
I love and hate Nancy,
Because my dear Nancy
Has taken a fancy
To leave me for Nancy.
n.
Mais puisque il est ainsi,
Je n'aimerai Nancy,
Que quand ma chere Nancy
Reviendra de Nancy. in.
Till then I '11 sob and sigh ;
Unless that perchance I
Should find a new Nancy,
And then I will fancy,
That in her's I 'm more dear than I was in my Ann's eye.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 177
My dear old Frenchwoman would have asked me
to what tune it was set, and would have insisted on
my singing it. I should have told her to " Colin's
Complaint," or " All in the Downs ;" and that though I
could not sing, Mr. Craufurd could, and then she would
be charmed with it. If your ladyship is not, I will
make you amends by a story, with which I defy you
not to be delighted.
At the neighbouring village of Teddington lives a
Captain Prescott, who is not only a tar, but pitch and
brimstone too. Two or three years ago (he is near
fifty) he married a beautiful, sensible young woman,
daughter of the minister of Portsmouth, who gave her
2,500/. Trincolo soon used her inhumanly, beat her,
had a child by her, thrashed her again :* she was
again three months gone with child, and then he beat
her so unmercifully, that a young footman who had
lived five years with him, could not bear to be witness
to so much brutality, left him, and has since lived a
year with Mrs. Clive, who finds him the best servant
she ever had. Poor Mrs. Trincolo's sufferings continuing,
she resolved to run away, and by the footman's assist
ance did, and got to London. Her father and friends
came up, and made her swear the peace against her
husband. The cause was heard before Lord Mansfield.
Mrs. Olive's servant was summoned as a witness. The
Chief Justice asked him if he had not been aiding and
abetting to his former mistress's escape. He said,
yes, he had. "You had!" said my lord, " what do
* For love and war take turns, like day and night. — Lothario.
VOL. II. N

178 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
you confess that you helped your master's wife to elope?"
"Yes, my lord," replied the lad, " and yet my master
has never thanked me !" " Thanked you !" said Lord
Mansfield, " thanked you ! what, for being an accom
plice with a wife against her husband !" " My lord,"
said the lad, " if I had not, he would have murdered
her, and then he would have been hanged." The
Court laughed, Lord Mansfield was charmed with the
lad's coolness and wit, and if your ladyship is not, I
hope you will never hear anything better than M. de
Coulanges's poetry.
P.S. I never saw the present Due de Bouillon : I
knew his wife, then Princesse de Turenne, a grave,
sensible woman, who I believe is dead. I am glad
when any French arrive and expose themselves here,
that we may have something to set against all the arti
cles that they can produce against our fools.

LETTER CCLV.

Berkeley Square, Oct. 18, 1783.
I never think myself in the wrong in writing
nonsense. Sense seldom turns to any account, espe
cially to a writer. Your ladyship strengthens me in
my opinion. I sent you some exceedingly foolish rhymes,
and they produced very pretty ones in return, and full
of meaning. Do you think I will not adhere to my
tenet ? I only write this to thank you, not to agacer
you again. I have nothing to say ; and our corre-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 179
spondence shall lie dormant, if you please, till I have
something to tell you that you might not hear other
wise. I will answer your question on omens, and bid
you good night.
Omens I do not pretend to explain, and for this very
good reason, that I cannot expound that which you have
sent me. If they have any meaning, they must have had
a meaner ; now, if the meaner does not speak to be
understood, I take him to be a very silly agent, and I
conclude so the more, because the silliest persons are
those who guess his meaning ; as Charles II. said of a
fool, who was a popular preacher in his own parish, " I
suppose his nonsense suits their nonsense." But, though
I cannot guess the meaning of a thing without meaning,
I can easily tell how Lady Grantham would interpret
the omen, for a silly ugly prude must know what she
would do, if she were her grandmother's picture, and
could do the only thing that can be in a picture's
power, tumble down, when your ladyship was present.
I have a female relation, who is a mighty dealer in
those winks which she thinks Providence tips her upon
every occasion ; and, though they never come to pass,
she does not suspect that Providence is making a fool
of her — or rather made her so once for all. I wonder
I am not a greater adept at interpretation, as she
has told me what everything in the world signifies,
except itself, for expounders of prophecies never allow
a prognostication to have any first meaning, though
always a second.
I came to town on Wednesday, to get rid of a
N 2

180 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
rheumatic fever, which had returned with more vio
lence — and I have found the nostrum succeed. It is
most unfortunate for me, but I am convinced that
country air is too sharp or too damp for me. If I am
in the least out of order, I cannot recover but in
London. It is, at this moment, a most unpalatable
medicine ; I have no where to go, and have sat almost
alone for the whole four days. I shall return to
Strawberry on Monday, and then settle here at the
very beginning of next month. Mr. Selwyn comes on
Tuesday. P.S. I direct this to Ampthill, as I conclude, if
you are not there, it is less likely to miscarry, than if it
went to Farming- Woods, and should not find you there.

LETTER CCLVI. Berkeley Square, Nov. 8, 1783.
I doubt, madam, that when I do go to Straw
berry, I shall not be able to discover the lady who
owns the tree and five of hearts. It seems to be a Ger
man coat of arms, and my heraldry does not extend so
far. If I knew the name of the village where the
building, that sounds, as if designed for a chapel, stands,
one may perhaps find some mention of it in Dugdale
or Tanner.
My rheumatism and its appendages are much better,
thank your ladyship, for the warm atmosphere of
London. They made me afraid to venture to Mrs.
Hobart's play, for though I have always been brave

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 181
about the gout, the rheumatism has made me a great
coward. The first goes, when it has had its swing,
and does not return, till, like a comet, it has made its
revolution. The other may never leave one, or come
back the day after it has disappeared ; however, as
mine seems to be put upon the establishment, I shall
talk no more of it.
The town is so empty, or rather I have lost so many of
my acquaintance, that I have scarce seen anybody since
I came. I have not heard a word of Lord Spencer's will,
nor of the relict, but that she is retired to St. Alban's.
My chief entertainment has been in reading the
mutual philippics of Messrs. Flood and Grattan, who, if
you believe their accounts of each other, are very
honourable men. There is a little book which you
would not read if you could, called, " Elegantise Latini
Sermonis." Hibernian elegance is not a whit behind
it in displaying naked truth, though of another kind.
Well! I am very glad there is so much animosity
amongst them : alas ! for these eight or ten years one
has been forced to wish for mischief, lest worse mis
chief should happen. In short, I have found out that
the love of one's country makes one a wicked animal,
and hope for plagues in all the rest of the world !
Would not one think, madam, that there was evil
enough toward, and that quiet I might escape in the
hurlyburly? Yet this morning at breakfast I was
saluted with the first scene of my old tragedy, all
sugared over with comfits like a twelfth-cake. I have
been writing to Mr. Woodfall, to beg to buy myself

182 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
out of his claws, and to lecture him for his gross com
pliments. I have ever laughed when I have seen little
men called great, and I will not bear to be made
ridiculous in the same way.
I fear you will hear melancholy accounts of poor
Lady W., but it is not a subject for a letter.
You say, we shall be found at Ampthill till after
Christmas, probably. I am very sorry for it, though a
little comforted by the probably, which at least is not
a definitive term. The long evenings before Christmas
are just the time when I most wish your ladyship
here, as then one can have a little society without a
mob. In spring everybody is running after everybody,
or waiting till supper-time for those they expect to
dinner. Though you say we, I depend on seeing our
lord next week, and though I hope his individuality
will not be absolutely necessary, yet surely the more
numerous the appearance the better. Nay, I should
hope your ladyship's zeal would rather accompany him,
than keep a draw-back to Ampthill. It is in every
light so serious a moment, that I could almost chide
you for having philosophy enough to look at it from a
distance. I who hang but by a thread, and from whom
no threads hang, could not be so indifferent.

LETTER CCLVII.

Dec. 30, 1783.
I am not such a buzzard, madam, but that I did
guess from your ladyship's silence and other circum-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 183
stances, that my last letter or two were not to your
taste. I was, and perhaps shall be, a prophet ; but as
that is a profession never honoured in its own country
(as I can say with truth and a little vanity I have
often found), I shall touch on nothing you do not like.
I obeyed your silence, lest I should say what you
wished me not to say ; and now you bid me write
again, I am ready to talk nonsense rather than sense,
being sure that I have much more talent for the one
than the other. News, I know none, but that they
are crying peerages about the streets in barrows, and
can get none off. Lord Chesterfield is named ambas
sador to Spain, to pay off the old debt of sending us
Gondomar, and the Foundling Hospital is to be con
verted into an Academy of Politicians.
I did mean to pass my holidays at Twickenham, but
the weather is so severe I did not venture. I have
been so perfectly well since I came to town, that I will
not risk another rheumatism.
American news may now be a neutral article ;
Washington, qui, il me semble, tranche un peu du Roi,
has instituted a military order, and calls it the order of
Cincinnatus, ce qui tranche un peu du pedant. He
sent it to La Fayette, and it made an uproar in Paris.
As the noblesse spell only by the ear, they took it for
the order of St. Senatus. They had recourse to the
calendar, and, finding no such saint in heaven's alma
nac, they concluded it was a new canonization at
Boston, and were enraged that Washington should
encroach on the papacy as well as on the diadem.

184 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
It may offend even the Bishop of Derry, who has
renounced all religions to qualify himself for being a
cardinal. Lord Edward Fitzgerald told me last night
that he fears the volunteers are very serious : sans
compter the spirits which the late Revolution here may
give them — but I had better break off, lest I offend by
sliding into politics, which you dislike.
I shall like prodigiously to be teadrunkwith'd by
Lady Ossory and the Graces, whether they are consub-
stantial or only coexistent, and shall not regret Mdlle.
Heinel, with " Her arms sublime that float upon the air."
You laugh at my distresses, madam, but it is a very
serious thing to have taken an old cook as yellow as a
dishclout, and have her seduced by a jolly dog of a
coachman, and have her miscarry of a child and go
on with a dropsy. All my servants think that the
moment they are useless I must not part with them,
and so I have an infirmary instead of a manage ; and
those that are good for any thing do nothing but get
children, so that my house is a mixture of a county
and foundling hospital. I don't wonder at his
Majesty, who has packed off the decrepit earland the
procreative bishop. Adieu till Thursday.
You accuse me of twenty things that I have no sort
of title to, as sense, prudence, entertainment, jollity,
and mystery. Who would ever think, madam, of those
being features in my character? It is like your
desiring me to write and promising me not to say

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 185
above two words in answer to my letters. Indeed, I
shall not write on those terms. I have no more vanity
than hypocrisy ; and, if you would only substitute
indifference in the place of all the attributes you have
so graciously bestowed on me, you would find it the
sole key to almost every action of my life for some
time past, and I believe for all to come. With neither
love nor hatred, with neither avarice nor ambition.
It is very seldom that one grows a hypocrite after being
the contrary. If I could be vain or forget myself, your
ladyship's compliments would have that effect ; but,
as they have not turned my head hitherto, I trust they
will not be able, and then I am sure nothing else will,
since I can boast and desire to boast of nothing but
being, yours &c.

LETTER CCLVIII. Jan. 13, 1784.
I can just use one hand enough slowly to scratch
out a few thanks to your ladyship for your very kind no
tification. Indeed, I had heard the agreeable news yes
terday ; and also that the Duke had sent word to Lord
Euston by Mr. Pratt, that he will continue his allow
ance. I am heartily glad ; not being of so romantic an
age as to believe that love and a cottage compose very
durable felicity. The Duke of Grafton has certainly
acted very temperately. It would be most unjust to
say that a father has not cause to be displeased, at his

186 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
child marrying against his consent. That he will be
satisfied with Lady Euston, if she ever has the happi
ness of being known to him, I am persuaded. I do not
know so perfect a young woman ; she has all her
father's sense and temper, and the utmost discretion.
They who spread absurd stories about her, had not one
of the three. I know some of them ; they are hags of
high rank; they bestow Sunday mornings on church,
and the rest of the year on scandal, malice, envy, and
lies of their neighbours : and their neighbours are
those of the Gospel, the first that falls in their way.
Three of those pious Furies are sisters, and their
names the Ladies Tisiphone, Megsera, and Alecto.
I can say to-day, madam, that I do believe my gout
is going. One of the fogs, or the eternal fog, gave me
cold last week, and my pains returned a little. From
being foolhardy, I am grown such a coward, that I do
not believe I shall venture to moult a single wrapper
this age.
You see the Airgonauts have passed the Rubicon.
By their own account they were exactly birds ; they
flew through the air, perched on the top of a tree,
some passengers climbed up and took them in their
nest. The smugglers, I suppose, will be the first that
will improve on the plan. However, if the project is
ever brought to any perfection (though I apprehend it
will be addled, like the ship that was to live under
water and never come up again) it will have a different
fate from other discoveries, whose inventors are not
known. In this age all that is done (as well as what

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 187
is never done) is so faithfully recorded, that every
improvement will be registered chronologically. Mr.
Blanchard's Trip to Calais puts me in mind of Dry-
den's Indian Emperor :
What divine monsters, O ye gods, are these,
That float in air, and fly upon the seas !
Dryden little thought that he was prophetically
describing something more exactly than ships as con
ceived by Mexicans. If there is no air-sickness, and I
were to go to Paris again, I would prefer a balloon to
the packet-boat, and had as lief roost in an oak as sleep
in a French inn, though I were to caw for my breakfast
like the young ravens.
This is a volume for me, madam, and my hand must
lie down and take a nap.

LETTER CCLIX. Berkeley Square, Jan. 19, 1784.
I can never suspect your ladyship of want of good
ness : you would not choose a moment of tenderness
for shewing indifference. Indeed, though the six last
days of my brother's life were most afflicting to behold,
I had cause for nothing but satisfaction from the in
stant he expired ; nor even before, could I have shut
out the sight. He had passed a very long life with
every enjoyment he chose, with almost equal health : he
did not wish to live longer ; he leaves nobody he loved
in distress ; he died without suffering, though his case

188 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
ought to have been excruciating — it was beyond the
power of remedy ; and his indifference, unabated firm
ness, his gaiety at moments within two days of his
exit, and his unaffected heroism, are all subjects of con
solation — and the tranquillity of his mind enviable.
Yet, I assure you, madam, that death is so much more
tiresome a thing than I had imagined, that I had far
rather that mine should be extempore than philosophic.
I do not like the apparatus at all, and hope I shall
know no more of my going out of the world than I did
of my coming into it. Life is a farce, and should not
end with a mourning scene.
Lord Ossory will tell you much more than I could,
madam, of the world's bigger features. I was in the
chambers of death on the twelfth, when the battle was
fighting, which has not yet proved decisive, though the
generals were so unequally matched, nor even the
forces. The vanquished still hold out, though the
language of the commanders is desponding enough to
make their soldiers disband. The want of pay is yet
more disheartening ; and the late vapour of a benevo
lence betrays the lowness of the military chest, which
was to have raised a new army ; the thought of which
is now said to be given up — at least Mr. Pitt's friends
and those of the Chancellor affectedly proclaim their
aversion to the measure, and lay all blame on superior
obstinacy, which alone forbids Mr. Pitt's resignation ;
as on the other side the whispers from the backstairs
lament the latter's irresolution. I know not what
foundation either have for what they give out ; nor

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 189
whether both do not speak to shift off the disgrace of a
defeat from themselves.

LETTER CCLX. Berkeley Square, Feb. 6, 1784.
I am very sorry, madam, to have occasion so soon
to return your ladyship's kind condolence on my bro
ther's death. It is more difficult to speak on your
loss, though I am persuaded you feel it more sensibly
than I did mine, who was prepared for it, and saw it so
gradual and so little grievous to himself, that I admired
more than lamented. Yet your ladyship, I hope, will have
a consolation that I could not receive : I do not mean
in point of fortune, though as you have children, you
cannot be indifferent to a great accession, as the town
says, you are likely to have, and which I most sincerely
wish ; but in reality you will, instead of losing a pa
rent, I trust, recover one. That I most heartily hope
will happen both for your sake and hers ! but it is not
proper to say more ; yet I could not help telling you
how much I have considered your present position
under all its phases, and having done so I will mix
nothing else with it ; though without any Pindaric
transition, one might easily slide into a variety of
reflections, which, however foreign to the theme, would
be all serious. Your ladyship's most devoted.

190 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCLXI.
Strawberry Hill, June 19, 1784.
You are very obliging, madam, to embrace any
opportunity of reviving our correspondence, and still
more kind on that you have taken. I am, indeed, very
happy in Lady Chewton's safety. I am pleased, too,
that she has a boy, as it pleases her and Lord Chew
ton ; nor do I wish her to encumber him with a bevy
of indigent infantas ; but alas ! what is an heir where
there is so little to inherit ? Lord Chewton has every
amiable virtue that man can have ; but virtues are like
the pipkins used by chymists in search of the philo
sopher's stone, which are very worthy utensils when
employed in humble offices, but mighty apt to crack in
pursuit of gold ; and, therefore, I neither believe nor
desire that he would go upon the process. I went to
town on Tuesday to enquire after her ; and that is all
I know of London. I have been constantly here,
where there is nothing to know, but that it is cold when
it should be hot, and that there is as great plenty as if
a board of seasons could carry on the business, and let
the place of first commissioner be a sinecure to their
principal, the sun. My absence from London has been
the reason of my not waiting on Lady Ravensworth ;
which I certainly will on the first opportunity. If she
could do me the honour of visiting Strawberry, it
should be made as easy to her ladyship as I could
contrive ; nor are there more than fifteen steps in

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 191
two flights up to the blue room, and three more only
to the star-chamber. Will you, madam, be so good as
to negotiate this for me ; and to say that in any case
the young lady (whose name I don't know) may com
mand a ticket for any morning she pleases, on giving
me notice two or three days before, for you must know
that I have been so tormented with visitants, and de
mands of breach of my rules and explanations, &c,
that I have been forced to print a regulation, or, in
fact, a memorial, in which I have positively declared I
will not depart from my method. All my mornings
are disturbed, and the money I have laid out to make
my house agreeable to myself, has almost driven me
out of it. Lady Ravensworth, on the contrary, if she
comes herself, will have the contrary effect, for I will
have the honour myself of shewing it to her.
Captain Cook's voyage I have neither read nor
intend to read. I have seen the prints — a parcel of
ugly faces, with blubber lips and flat noses, drest as
unbecomingly as if both sexes were ladies of the first
fashion ; and rows of savages, with backgrounds of
palm-trees. Indeed I shall not give five guineas and a
half — nay, they sell already for nine, for such uncouth
lubbers ; nor do I desire to know how unpolished the
north or south poles have remained ever since Adam
and Eve were just such mortals. My brother's death
has made me poor, and I cannot now afford to buy
every thing I see. It is late, to be sure, to learn eco
nomy, but I must do it, though a little -grievous, as I
never was able to say the multiplication table. Well !

192 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
before I come to the Rule of Three it will be all over ;
and then an obolus will serve to pay the ferryman.
How he will stare if I cry, " No, stay, I cannot give
you that ; it is a Queen Anne's farthing."
I rejoice in Lady Gertrude's recovery, who I really
thought looked very ill. I cannot say so of Lord
Ossory, and yet I am glad he is better, if he wanted
to recover — though he is so healthy, that I believe he
only took his anxiety for her for an ague. The young
and robust are surprised at any uneasy sensation, and
conclude it illness. On the contrary, we ancient in
valids try to -persuade ourselves that any cessation of
pain promises an entire cure — and so we die, just
when we imagine we have taken a new lease.

LETTER CCLXII. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 19, 1784.
I was not alert, I own, madam, in answering
your ladyship's last note, and I thought, for tolerable
reasons. I am so superannuated, so antiquated, that
it is impossible my letters should entertain you ; and I
did suspect that, with all your civility, you felt what /
know. You might have other reasons, too, for letting
a correspondence languish which my unreasonable
length of life has protracted longer than you could
expect. I am always ready to do justice on myself ;
and should always remember your past goodness, and

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 193
approve your abridging it when it grows a tax rather
than an amusement.
You did mention your intention of going to Kings-
gate, but I had not heard of that journey taking place.
I am not surprised at your liking it, for it is certainly
singular, and in no light disagreeable. The situation
is uncommon and cheerful, and the buildings and
erections so odd, and so little resembling any one
ever saw, that a view might, to those who were never
there, be passed for a prospect in some half civilised
island discovered by Captain Cook, and, with leave
of the editors, more novel than any in the new pomp
ous publication. I am as little surprised that the
place, after the first impression, should have excited
a thousand less pleasing reflections — there 's room for
meditation. The verses that Lady Ravensworth has in MS.,
have been frequently printed in magazines since, nay,
and before Mr. Gray's death. I was very sorry that
he wrote them, and ever gave a copy of them. You
may be sure I did not recommend their being printed
in his works ; nor were they.
I am glad your society is improved by Lady Ra-
venworth's company, and I hope all the three genera
tions "will return much amended in health. Though
I am too indolent ever to try it, I have the highest
opinion of sea air, and always in every illness deter
mine to go to the coast ; and as constantly neglect
it when I am better, as if it was a qualm of con
science, that was dissipated by health. At present
VOL. II. o

194 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
I am scandalously well, considering what a winter
and what a summer there have been. Except three
days at Park Place, I have not stirred hence. If
I did, I should not sojourn in an inn at Margate!
I have a notion my friend Mrs. Vesey is there, but
I have no more intelligence from London than from
Hindostan. Florence is the nearest spot whence I hear
any news. The dying Pretender has acknowledged
his natural daughter Lady Charlotte Stuart, and created
her Duchess of Albany, and declared her his heiress.
I heard a report some time ago in town, that his
queen, as soon as she is dowager, intends to come to
England and marry Alfieri, who is or was here, being
sent out of Rome at the instance of the Cardinal of
York. I don't know whether her royal highness,
Lady Mary Coke, will visit her after such a mesal
liance, though, having quarrelled with most of the
sovereigns of Europe, it would be refreshing to have
an intimacy with a royal relict.
Have you seen the " Memoirs of Marshal Villars,"
madam ? The two first volumes have many entertaining
passages. The two latter are a little tedious, but to
me very interesting, for they abuse my father — stay,
let me account for this satisfaction. The opposition
wrote volumes to accuse him of being a tool to France,
and governed by Cardinal Fleury ; Marshal Villars is
so good as to rail at the Cardinal for being governed
and duped by my father. It is not living to no
purpose, when I have reached to this vindication.
This summer has afforded me two such amendes

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 195
honorables. In my earlier time I was almost pro
scribed for my contempt of the Duke of Newcastle
and Mr. Pelham. Lord Melcombe's Diary does not
prove that I was so much in the wrong. It is com
fortable to find that one does not always form judg
ments ill founded ! and that one's opinions may grow
fashionable when one is dead.

LETTER CCLXIII. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 26, 1784.
I must reply a few words, madam. I was so far
from thinking that you had any double meaning in
your congratulation on the Fitzroyal match, that I had
not, when I received your ladyship's letter on that
subject, ever heard that there could be a double
meaning in that expression. It is a delicate subject
no doubt, as, indeed, the subject always is, where the
fate of a young woman is at stake. However, on my
own part I can speak with the utmost truth and sim
plicity, for I have nothing to disguise or conceal. I
remember you thought me mysterious on a royaller
match ; and yet it proved that I had been totally out
of the secret till it was publicly divulged.
It is most strictly fact, that I live so totally out of
the world, and know so little of what is passing in it,
that going to town to see Lady Chewton on her lying-
in, as I was leaving her I said, " Is it true that Mr.
Fitzroy likes Laura ? " " Likes her ! " replied she,
o 2

196 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
" why, have you heard nothing ? " " Yes," said I, " I
was told at Twickenham that they were much to
gether." " Bless me ! " said she, " don't you know
that they ran away yesterday ! "
I was still more in the dark about volume the
second : I had not even so much as heard that the
parties had ever been supposed to like — nay, the
proposal had been made to the duke before even com
mon fame, that knows everything, had told me what
she had told to everybody else ; and when everybody
else told it, till it reached even me, I did not ask a
question about it of those who must know something
of the matter, and it was quite accidentally that it has
been mentioned to me at all : nor can I at all judge
whether there is any likelihood of its taking place.
I have not varied in a tittle from the most minute
veracity ; though as your ladyship cannot conceive the
extreme ignorance in which I live, you may perhaps
think my account inexplicable, or imagine that there
is some coldness between me and my family; though
there is not the smallest. I believe my nieces love me
as much as they can love an old obsolete uncle, for I
am always in good humour with them and never
preach ; but I do not wonder that they do not run to
me with their histories, who never interfere in them,
nor give my advice unless they ask it.
The new Duchess of Albany, the only child the
dying Pretender ever had, was by a Mrs. Walkinshaw,
sister of the woman of the bed-chamber to the late
Princess of Wales. The mother and daughter lived in

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 197
a convent, at Paris, on a moderate pension, from the
Cardinal of York. They formerly went to Rome, but
were sent back. The mother died a year or two ago ;
the daughter is about nine-and-twenty. The house of
Fitzjames, fearing their becoming a burden to them
selves, prevented the acknowledgment of the daughter.
I have sent for the "Memoirs of Cromwell's Family;"
but as yet have only seen extracts from it in a maga
zine. It can contain nothing a thousandth part so
curious as what we know already ; the inter-marriage
in the fourth descent of Oliver's posterity and King
Charles's; the speech of Richard Cromwell to Lord
Bathurst, in the House of Lords ; and Fanny Russell's
reply to the late Prince of Wales, on the 30th of
January. They are anecdotes, especially the two first,
worthy of being inserted in the history of mankind,
which, if well chosen and well written, would precede
common histories, which are but repetitions of no
uncommon events.
I did read the "Lettres de Cachet ; " but like the
" Tableau de Paris," they shocked me far more than
they amused me. I hate to read or hear of miseries
that one knows it is out of one's power to remedy.
The earthquakes in Naples and Sicily last year were
of that kind. When I glance in a newspaper on an
article of a report on convicts, I hide the paragraph
with my finger, that I may not know the day of ex
ecution, and feel for what wretches, whom I cannot
help, are feeling. The knowledge of woes that one
can alleviate, ought never to be avoided — when they

198 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
are too big for my weak grasp, I fly to the gayer side
of the picture — and there one can always find food for
smiles. I have often said that this world is a comedy
to those who think, and a tragedy to those who feel !
— but I have wandered beyond the bounds of a reply,
and will wish a calm to Kingsgate, and fair weather
everywhere. Were Homer alive, who made gods and
goddesses, commissaries and contractors to kings, I
suppose he would tell us that Ceres having favoured
the English with exuberant plenty, Juno, who was on
the French side, sent deluges to drown all harvest.
Good night, madam.

LETTER CCLXIV. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 23, 1784.
It is very true, madam, we are robbed in the face
of the sun, as well as at the going down thereof. I
know not how other districts fare, but for five miles
round us we are in perpetual jeopardy. Two of our
justices, returning from a cabinet-council of their own
at Brentford, were robbed last week, before three
o'clock, at the gates of Twickenham : no wonder ; I
believe they are all hoodwinked like their Alma Mater
herself, and consequently, as they cannot see, it is not
surprising that both she and they should often weigh
out their goods with uneven scales.
Being perfectly secure of not having given your
ladyship any cause of offence, I did conclude that one
reason of your silence must be the topic to which you

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 199
allude, and on which you could not like to write after
you knew that I had absolutely nothing to do in the
affair. I was certainly as little desirous of renewing a
theme which terminated as I had foreseen, and as, in
the only conversation I had with the person concerned,
I foretold it would ; the last words I said to her being
to warn her to be prepared for such an event. You
may then well believe, madam, that it cannot be my
wish to revive a subject so little agreeable.
I am acquainted with Mrs. Allanson, and have very
great esteem for her, and could tell your ladyship her
history, were it not too long for a letter. Her conduct
has been noble and reasonable ; her patroness's, in my
opinion, preposterous at least. The female disciples of
that school, which is not that of Pythagoras, the
mistress resembling him in nothing but in a thigh of
solid gold, are loud in her defence. I hope Mr. Pulte
ney will protect Mrs. Allanson by the same substantial
arguments. I cannot unlock Mr. Powis's charade. It may be
a veiy good something, but does not seem to be a
charade, which used to be formed of a first part, a
second, and a whole. Now I did not know that
character was the whole of anybody or anything.
Balloons is a subject I do not intend to tap. If
they can be improved into anything more than Brob-
dignag kites, it must be in a century or two after
I shall be laid low. A century in my acceptation
means an hundred years hence, or a year or two
hence, for after one ceases to be, all duration is of

200 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
the same length ; and everything that one guesses
will happen after one's-self is no more, is equally a
vision. Visions I loved, while they decked with rain
bows, or concealed the clouds of the horizon before
me ; but now that the dream is so near to an end,
I have no occasion for lesser pageants — much less
for divining with what airy vehicles the atmosphere
will be peopled hereafter, or how much more expe
ditiously the east, west, or south, will be ravaged and
butchered, than they have been by the old-fashioned
clumsy method of navigation.
It is true, I do not shut my eyes to the follies
actually before them. I smile at the adoration paid
to these aerial Quixotes ; and reflect, that, as formerly,
men were admired for their courage in risking their
lives in order to destroy others ; now they are wor
shiped for venturing their necks en pure perte —
much more commendably I do allow ; yet Fame is
the equal object of both. I smile, too, at the stu
pidity that pays a guinea for being allowed to see
what any man may see by holding up his head and
looking at the sky : and I observe that no improve
ments of science or knowledge make the world a jot
wiser ; knowledge, like reason, being a fine tool that
will give an exquisite polish or finishing to orna
ments ; but is not strong enough to answer the com
mon occasions of mankind.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 201

LETTER CCLXV.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 12, 1784.
It happens to me now, madam, as I suppose
it does to most who have intervals in their corre
spondence : when they come to write, their letters
must be a patch- work of discordant affections— if
affections they have ; so chequered are the events
of human life ! If I turn to one side of my mind, it
is all sunshine and joy, on the queen's goodness to
Lord Waldegrave ; if to the other, what true sorrow
for the death of Lady Drogheda! She was really as
perfect as a mortal could be. Her piety, though
rigid, was so sweet ! her understanding she had cul
tivated herself; it was as deep as it was improved.
She had a concise and comprehensive eloquence, that
summed up the newest and most just reflections in
the compass of a short sentence ; from the mouth
of an ancient sage they would have been handed down
as maxims. The gentle and harmonious tone of her
voice, the captivating graces of her manner, and the
blushes that accompanied all she said, for her reso
lution of speaking when it was proper, was for ever
combating her bashfulness, made such an assemblage
of attraction, that she appeared more beautiful than
she was in reality — but it was the beauty of a modest
saint. Her firmness was equal to her other qualities :
perceiving that in fondness to her son she equalled

202 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
her mother, she sent him from her to England for
his education. She has been carried off in six days
by a bilious disorder, leaving a miserable husband,
whom, though doting on her, she could not preserve
from ruining his health and fortune by drink and
play, four or five daughters, to whom her loss is
irreparable, a family of brothers and sisters, who
idolized her, and a most fond father, to whom this
blow will recall the death of her mother, exactly at
this time two years ago. I never saw General Con
way so much struck as when he brought me the
news. This indulgence to my own sensations will not com
pensate to your ladyship for the story of Mrs. A., but
that indeed I am not entirely at liberty to write, as
there are some circumstances which, though highly to
her honour, are not proper for the post. In lieu I
can tell you a curious anecdote of the King of Sweden.
When last at Florence, he found the Count of Albany
in a wretched condition, destitute even of an ex
chequer to pay his household. He imparted his sym
pathy at the opera — to whom, think you, madam ?
only to the minister of the count's rival, — who, with
his usual readiness and propriety replied, that he
supposed the subsidy his majesty said he intended to
bestow on his poor compeer, was mentioned to him as
a hint to sound whether it would not be offensive to a
brother monarch. He accepted that idea : then pro
posed to make a free gift of 1,000/., — to be followed
by a like benevolence in six months, and an annual

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 203
donative of more than both. You expect next no
doubt to hear, madam, that the good ship " Guilder-
stern " arrived at Leghorn loaded with copper-money
—pas encore. The modern Gustavus desired the
English resident to advance the money, for which he
would give him a draft on the mines of Dalecarlia.
Having received no such instructions, the minister
desired to be excused ; and some how or other the
treasurer is not yet arrived. On the contrary, as the
new Duchess of Albany will inherit jewels and effects
to the amount of at least an 100,000/.; it is said
that one of the royal Dukes of Ostrogothia or Van-
dalmania is to marry her ; but this I do not war
rant. I had the whole story from the younger Sir
Horace, who is just come to England. The elder is
too discreet ever to send me such anecdotes of the
Porphyrogeniti. You tell me, madam, the humours of the Prince of
Wales and his new comrade, old Slender, nay, but they
are not of my calibre. I kissed the hand of George I.,
and do not look to the revels of his great, great
grandson. My life has been protracted long beyond
the term that my weak frame seemed to promise ;
yet, having lived long, is no reason for expecting to
live much longer. I amuse the remnant by recollec
tion, not by guessing at futurity ; for though memory
is a shadow, it is at least a more substantial one than
hope or foresight.
I have seen Mr. Duane, who is feeble, indeed, but
his head is clear ; and his appetite for buying curiosi-

204 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
ties still alert ; consequently I am much more super
annuated, for I find that passion has taken its flight
too !

LETTER CCLXVI. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 17, 1784.
Naturally, madam, I should rejoice on a favourite
niece being married to a young lord of the great rank,
character, and figure of Lord Euston ; and much more,
on my family's acquiring the honour of alliance with
your ladyship's ; yet that satisfaction is much abated
by the circumstance of the Duke of Grafton's disap
probation. I am not fond of matches where any
proper consent is wanting. Still I flatter myself that
as my niece's birth, fortune, and character made her in
every light a suitable party, except for his Grace's
younger children, Lord Euston will not be thought to
have made a very ineligible choice ; and I do hope that
Lady Ravensworth and your Ladyship do not condemn
him. It does please me to recollect that I have often
talked to you, when I could not have the most glimmer
ing idea of such an event, of the uncommon understand
ing of Lady Euston. The dignity of her conduct on the
wretched behaviour of Lord Egremont, did deserve a
man of nobler principles ; and fate has amply compen
sated by giving her one who has acted as honourably
as the other meanly. I am not likely to see the conse
quences : it would grieve me should they prove what

TO. THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 205
are threatened ; but I will venture to foretell that if
sense and sweetness of temper can constitute the chief
felicity of a husband, Lord Euston will not be un
happy. Still, he will do me the justice to say, that in
the only interview I have had the honour of having
with him since the marriage was in question, I told
him nobody could advise him to risk his father's dis
pleasure. I have most strictly adhered to that decla
ration ; and when I saw my niece the next day (the
sole time I have seen her since) I entreated her to
break off the connection entirely. This justification I
owe to the long friendship, madam, with which you
have honoured me : it is not due to any one else, nor
should I condescend to make it but to you. However
flattered I may be by the alliance, I would not have
obtained it by staking Lord Euston's fortune, nor by
shocking a father's authority, however harshly, and I
think unreasonably exerted. A letter from Lady
Waldegrave this morning acquainted me that the mar
riage was solemnized yesterday.
I am in utter ignorance of anything else that could
help out a letter. The papers tell me that the Dutch
are drowning their country to save it. It puts me in
mind oiLan old Pagan parable. The priests of the God
of fire and those of the God of water agreed on a duel
between their principals — what a pity that etiquette
has been disused ! The aquatic champion was clad,
for armour, in a jug, bored with holes stopped by wax.
Emperor Flame advanced with all the fervour of his
element : Mynheer Neptune received the onset with

206 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
sang fr oid; Caesar pushed on; the wax dissolved, an
inundation burst forth — and Vulcan was extinguished
— and so be it ! How the imperial vulture of Russia
must long to extend a talon, and carry off a limb of
another republic !
Since I adjusted the affair between Lord Orford and
Cav. Mozzi, I have heard nothing of Mr. Morrice, who
was then at Ischia, and better, and, as he always is,
whether better or worse, in good spirits.
Pray, madam, revere Uncle Methusalem ; Lord Euston
makes the fifty-sixth of my nephews, nieces, and great
nephews and nieces. Two Fitzroys will not stop the
lengthening of the line, if it does not break off at the
other end !

LETTER CCLXVII. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 20, 1784.
In obedience to your ladyship's commands, I
write a few words. I certainly cannot disapprove any
thing you say on the present occasion. Much less
do I disagree with you in thinking that any fervour on
your ladyship's part would but do hurt. Indeed, the
only part I take myself is to recommend perfect
silence, which I shall strictly observe myself. I told
Lady Euston my opinion, as it was my duty; both
when she told me of the proposal, and when I thought
it entirely broken off. When anything is over, though

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 207
contrary to one's opinion, good nature, as well as good
sense, bids one take the favourable side. My dis
position always inclines me to be partial to young
people and young passions ; and, therefore, it was no
effort to exchange prudence for kind wishes. Mine
are so very barren, that I am not even likely to see
them fulfilled, should they ever be !
I could only vary my expressions, madam, if I wrote
more on this subject; nor should I have said so much
but to you. When one can do no service, silence is
the only succedaneum.

LETTER CCLXVIII. Berkeley Square, Dec. 9, 1784.
I can answer Lady Anne's salique query very
easily, madam, or rather I cannot ; but I believe that,
even when Edward VI. died, there was not a single
prince living who descended in the direct male line
from any king since the Conquest. Numerous as
were the sons of Edward III., only Thomas, Duke
of Gloucester, continued the masculine line, and I
cannot (upon memory alone) affirm that. Lf he did,
the Duke of Buckingham, beheaded by Henry VIII.,
had, saliquely speaking, the best title to the Crown.
The Beauforts are doubly illegitimate, being descended
from a bastard of one of John of Ghent's legitimated
issue. I doubt, therefore, whether, enacting the salique

208 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
law here would not, in any period, have been a dan
gerous measure ; at least, I know nowhere of an un
interrupted male genealogy of genuine princes but in
Wales ; and it would occasion an inundation of civil
wars, before the Heralds' Office could settle which Mr.
Price, or which Mr. Williams, or which Mr. Philipps>
is the genuine heir of our true British princes. I am
sure I do not mean to arrogate a right in myself,
nor pretend to say how near I stand to the Crown ; but
I have a pedigree of my mother, drawn up by the late
Sir John Philipps, my cousin, and father of the present
Lord Milford, in which it is clear that we are de
scended from Cadwallader. I really do not believe
Sir John had any ambitious views himself, for, though
he gave himself all that trouble, I believe it was only
meant as a compliment to his cousin, the wife of the
then prime-minister, or, at most, a hint to her that so
noble a prince ought to be, at least, a commissioner
of the customs ; and I am the more inclined to
acquit his royal highness, my cousin, of any inten
tion of disturbing the established succession from
personal views, as (from no resentment, I believe,
for not obtaining a place in the Custom-house)
he became a very zealous and active Jacobite, and,
at last, died in very good odour with his present
Majesty. Thus you see, madam, whichever way I turn myself,
I have royal or Fitzroyal connections ; and yet, how
ever beneficial it might be to me and my relations on
Cadwallader's side, I cannot come into your ladyship's

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 209
scheme of a salique law here. At least I hope you
will repeal the marriage act first — for. two reasons ;
one, that our present princes may have as many lawful
male heirs as possible ; and the other, that our
princesses may not be forced to scamper to Gretna
Green, in order to supply the crown with heirs, — which
they would not do, if their children were not habile to
succeed. I luckily arrived in town the eve of dreadful yester
day. I came for my waiting to-night in Cavendish
Square, and did mean to return to Strawberry to-mor
row, and thence go on Saturday to Park Place ; but
since Boreas and iEolus, and all the demons of the air
are let loose, I shall keep myself as warm as I can, and
not venture being laid up with the gout and com
pounded in snow as I was some years ago at Ampthill,
and then forced to have a track hewn for me by the
charity of my hosts.
May I beg to consult your ladyship on a case of con
science ? I think I ought to wait on Lady Ravensworth
on a late event ; and yet I am so afraid of doing a
wrong or seemingly impertinent thing, that I have not
ventured yet. Pray tell me seriously whether I should
or not.
I have neither seen the Carmelite nor Holman, nor
anything, or almost anybody else. You don't consider
that I was a contemporary of Dugdale and Ashmole,
that I am or ought to be superannuated, and that I
know no more of the present generation, than if
Deucalion and Pyrrha had just tossed them over
VOL. II. P

210 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
their shoulders and restocked the earth. Alas ! I
have lost most of those that used to inhabit it in my
days ! and a teacup full of deluge would wash me
away too.

LETTER CCLXIX. Berkeley Square, Dec. 27, 1784.
I am told that I am in a prodigious fine way ;
which, being translated into plain English, means, that
I have suffered more sharp pain these two days than in
all the moderate fits together that I have had for these
last nine years : however, madam, I have one great
blessing, there is drowsiness in all the square hollows
of the red hot bars of the gridiron on which I lie, so
that I scream and fall asleep by turns like a babe
that is cutting its first teeth. I can add nothing
to this exact account, which I only send in obedi
ence to your ladyship's commands, which I received
just now : I did think on Saturday that the worst
was over.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 211

LETTER CCLXX.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 3, 1785.
I am much obliged to your ladyship and Lord
Ossory : I am essentially better, and quite contented,
for my pains are gone. It is not so easy to recover
what I had not, strength ; and, consequently, I am as
low and languid as possible ; but having no occasion
for myself, I am very indifferent about the little pro
gress I make. I return your ladyship's new year's
compliments with wishes, I hope, better founded.

LETTER CCLXXI. Berkeley Square, Jan. 16, 1785.
I am always thanking you, madam, I think, for
kind inquiries after me ; but it is not my fault that I
am so often troublesome ! I would it were otherwise !
— however, I do not complain. I have attained another
resurrection; and was so glad of my liberty, that I
went out both Saturday and Sunday, though so snowy a
day and so rainy a day never were invented. Yet I have
not ventured to see Mrs. Jordan, nor to skate in Hyde
Park. We had other guess winters in my time ! — fine
sunny mornings, with now and then a mild earthquake,
just enough to wake one, and rock one to sleep again
comfortably. My recoveries surprise me more than my
fits ; but I am quite persuaded now that I know ex-
p 2

212 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
actly how I shall end : as I am a statue of chalk, I shall
crumble to powder, and then my inside will be blown
away from my terrace, and hoary -headed Margaret will
tell the people that come to see my house, —
" One morn we miss'd him on the 'custom'd hill."
When that is the case, madam, don't take the pains of
inquiring more — as I shall leave no body to return to,
even Cagliostro would bring me back to no purpose : by
the way, is not it curious, that when credulity and
superstition are so far exploded that even a cardinal is
abandoned by bishops and clergy, and left to the civil
power, there should still be dupes to such a mountebank
as Cagliostro ? I have been told that Prince Ferdinand
himself had faith in him. I know that our late King,
though not apt to believe more than his neighbours,
had no doubt of the existence of vampires and their
banquets on the dead. Dr. Johnson seems to have been
the representative in epitome of all the contradictions
in human nature.
Your ladyship may be sure I am happy in Lady
Euston's good fortune, not only in the duke's being
reconciled, but in obtaining Lady Ravensworth's fa
vourable opinion. It has always been mine, that her
paternal understanding and temper would pierce at last
through all clouds. She still in my eyes wants one
essential boon from fortune to complete her felicity ;
and though I may not live to see that moment, I hope
your ladyship will then allow that I gave a just char
acter of her, when I could have no idea of what has
happened since.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 213
Most of the diversions that I have given up, cost me
no regrets ; but I own I should have enjoyed the play
at Ampthill : indeed you might have made me a little
amends by sending me the Prologue or Epilogue, instead
of a charade which I shall never guess. In revenge, here
is one, which I hope you will all find as uncrackable :
General Conway, who never rests till he has mastered
one, miscarried : " ma premiere partie fait aller, ma
seconds fait reculer, mon tout fait rire et pleurer."
General Burgoyne's " Heiress," I hear, succeeded ex
tremely well, and was, besides, excellently acted. Have
you had patience, madam, to wade through Mr. Hayley's
"Old Maids?" I could not; and can you guess why
he wrote them, unless to sell three volumes ? That sot
Boswell is a classic in comparison.
You know to be sure, madam, that Lady Brudenel is
dead ; every body laments her, for she was perfectly
unexceptionable. I have lost a very old friend, one
of my oldest, and a most worthy man, Lord Dacre ;
but after forty years of miserable sufferings, his death
was charming, and not two hours in duration from his
seizure. We who are dead in equity, though not in
law, should hope for such conclusions, and have former
preludes discounted.
Sir William Hamilton, I am told, has been probing
Vesuvius, and announces a more dreadful explosion than
ever. Lord and Lady Spencer have ascended the
mountain, while the lava boiled over the opposite brim.
I should have no thirst for such bumpers.
My hand, you see, madam, has obeyed you very de-

214 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
bonairly ; I am sorry I had no better materials. I have
straws enough, but I don't find that I have good brick.
P.S. I am not such a blockhead as I thought I was :
I believe that is the key to your charade. My French
one is as just.

LETTER CCLXXII. Berkeley Square, Feb. 5, 1785.
I have not written lately, madam, because I re
lapsed and have been so very ill, the gout falling on my
lungs, that I did not know whether before my letter
could set out for Ampthill, I should not be obliged to
add a postscript from another world, and send you a
new direction ; but I am recovered, and have even
been out twice to take the air. This time indeed my
recovery was a little artificial, and not entirely owing
to my own management and to my Herculean weakness.
Sir John Elliot had happened to attend my housemaid,
and would not take a fee ; to prevail, I pretended to
talk on my own gout, and he was so tractable, and suf
fered me to prescribe to him what he should prescribe
to me, without giving me powder of volcanos and other
hot drugs, that I continued to see him ; and I do be
lieve, that at the crisis, I should not have conducted
myself quite so judiciously as he did. This is making
very honourable amende to the college whom I have
always treated with contempt ; but as I love my own
veracity still more than my own way, I do not haggle
about confessing the truth.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 215
As I don't know that your ladyship is particularly
devoted to Hippocrates, perhaps I have tired you by
my recantation ; but I had nothing of more worth to
tell you, and only wrote to excuse my silence.
Your aunt, Lady Dowager Gower, is dying of a simi
lar accident to poor Lady Strafford's, in whom the mor
tification is said to be begun. As much as I shall
pity Lord Strafford, it is impossible to be sorry for her.
She had burnt off one ear, part of the other, and was
likely to lose one of her eyes.
The news of my coffee-house, since I began my letter,
is, that Lady Strathmore eloped last night, taking her
two maids with her ; but no swain is talked of. The
town, they say, is empty : it certainly does not pro
duce its usual complement of extravagances, when one
solitary elopement of a veteran madwoman is all that
is at market.

LETTER CCLXXIII. Berkeley Square, June 7, 1785.
Though you had declared yourself on the wing,
madam, you took your flight before I was aware, or I
should have attempted to make you a parting bow.
People, who have paid their bills, are not apt to fly
from town so rapidly. You have time to cool, indeed,
perhaps not to dry yourselves, for June, that is not
often in debt for rain, seems likely to discharge all his
arrears. I question, however, whether a deluge will
replace the leaves before the midsummer shoots : the

216 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
tops of all my elms are as naked as in the first days of
November; chaffers and nabobs, I mean caterpillars,
have stripped them stark.
Mr. B. wrote, I conclude, when he was mad or drunk,
probably the latter, for he seems to have had sober
intervals enough to flatter every man who is or may be
a Minister ; his advertisement is of a piece with Miss
Bellamy's. The poor milkwoman's poetry is published, and the
charity, I imagine, equal whether by subscribing or
buying the book. She seems to have a conscious dig
nity of mind, which I like better than her verses, and
which is a greater rarity than middling poets or even
than middling poetesses; I am a little sick of the
Hayleys and Miss Sewards, who are like common milk-
women who borrow tankards and flowers of all their
acquaintance for Mayday.
You tell me, madam, that you only wrote to receive a
letter ; you do receive only your own letter back again,
paragraph by paragraph. In truth I am superannuated,
and know nothing, do nothing, am fit for nothing. I
have been three days alone at Strawberry, and nowhere
else but to dine at Gunnersbury last Friday, with the
Conways, Harcourts, Mount Edgcumbes, and Mrs. Howe.
I expected that Lady Harcourt would every now and
then say your Majesty instead of your Royal Highness.
My lord, too, is quite Count Castiglione, the perfect
courtier. General Conway, who never remembers
what anybody is or was, asked him, on speaking of
Handel's music at Westminster Abbey, whether his

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY 217
lordship had been in waiting ! concluding he was a
lord of the bedchamber.
This is all my journal contains, madam ; but what
better can you expect from a Strulbrug ? and one so
insipid as to be content with being so ? Nay, it is not
an unpleasant state. Having outlived all one's passions
and pursuits, and not having acquired avarice in lieu,
one sits down tranquilly like an old sailor that has
been in many storms, and sees the crowd bustling and
jostling, or playing the fool, and feels the comfort of
idleness and indifference, and the holiday luxury of
having nothing to do. Don't you think the retired
tradesman, whose journal is in the " Spectator," was a
happy being ? He played with his cat, and strolled to
Mother Redcap's, if the weather was fair, and had no
uneasiness, but when his friend the politician (I forget
his name) prognosticated war. There I am happier :
I am past and below political apprehensions, and have
so little time left, that the events of all futurity might
as well disturb my imagination, as, perhaps, the next
that are to happen. Even returns of pain, of which I
have suffered so much, have little terror for me : I
cannot feel a quarter of what I have felt, I mean in
point of duration ; and should they be violent, I have
not strength to struggle with them. But I beg your
pardon, madam, though I can but smile with thinking
how you will be disappointed on receiving, instead of a
letter, the reflections of a Strulbrug on his own inanity.
When Swift drew the character, he did not know it.
Poor man ! the turbulence of his own temper, and the

218 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
apprehensions of his own decay, made him conceive it
as a miserable condition : on the contrary, it is almost
a gay one, when one can be sensible of it, and of all its
enjoyments. I would tell you more of it, madam, if it
were capable of any variety ; but as its uniformity is
one of its felicities, you people of the world who have
no taste for sameness, would not be diverted with the
particulars. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-mor
row — all alike. Tonton is as principal an actor as the
tradesman's cat ; but he has more vivacity, though he
is not mad, as your ladyship apprehended, when he
bit Lord Ossory's finger ; indeed, he can bite but little
more than your obedient servant, his master.

LETTER CCLXXIV. Strawberry Hill, June 20, 1785.
I give your ladyship a thousand thanks for the
crown of laurel you sent me : I tried it on immediately ;
but it certainly was never made for me ; it was a vast
deal too big, and did not fit me at all ; it must have
been designed for one of double my size. Besides, as I
never wear so much as a hat, it would make my head
ache — and then, too, as nobody in the village has worn
a sprig of laurel since Mr. Pope's death, good Lord !
how my neighbours would stare, if I should appear with
a chaplet, to which I have no more title than Lord de
Ferrers to the Earldom of Leicester. I will not be
such a bear as to send back your ladyship's favor ; but

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 219
if you would give me leave to present it to poor Mr.
Hayley, or Mr. Cumberland, who ruin themselves in
new laurels every day, it would make them as happy
as princes ; and I dare answer that either of them
would write an ode upon you, not quite so good
perhaps, yet within a hundred thousand degrees as
excellent as Major Scott's, and at least better than Mr.
Warton's. However, though I am no poet, yet I don't
know what I may come to, if I live. I have just
written the life of a young lady in verse ; in which,
perhaps, I have too much affected brevity, though had
I chosen to spin it out by a number of proper names,
more falsehoods, and a tolerable quantity of anachron
isms, there was matter enough to have furnished as
many volumes as Miss Bellamy's Memoirs. Mine I
have comprised in these four lines —
Patty was a pretty maid ;
Patty was of men afraid ;
Patty grew her fears to lose,
And grew so brave, she lost her nose.
As the world is now so overstocked with anecdotes,
I don't know whether it will not be advisable for
future English biographers to aim at my conciseness
and confine themselves to quatrains. Dr. Johnson's
history, though he is going to have as many lives as
a cat, might be reduced to four lines ; but I shall
wait, to extract the quintessence, till Sir John Hawkins,
Madame Piozzi, and Mr. Boswell, have produced their
quartos. Apropos, madam, t'other night I was sitting
with Mrs. Vesey ; there was very little light ; arrived
Sir Joshua Reynolds, and a person whom I took for

220 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Mr. Boswell. I sewed up my mouth, and, though he
addressed me two or three times, I answered nothing
but yes or no. Just as he was going away, I found
out that it was Mr. Richard Burke, and endeavoured
to repair my causticity. I am not quite in charity
with Sir Joshua ; he desired to come and see my
marvellous Henry VII. ; when he saw it, he said, " It
is in the old hard Flemish manner." For hard, it is so
bold, that it is one of the great reasons for doubting
its antiquity ; and for Flemish, there is nothing Flemish
in it, except a chiaro scuro, as masterly as Rubens's ;
but it is not surprising that Sir Joshua should dislike
colouring that has lasted so long !
I went last week to see a new piece, by O'Keeffe, my
favourite author, next to Major Scott. Harry Fox was
in the box. I asked him if he had ever seen, "The
Agreeable Surprise ;" he said no ; I cried it up to the
heavens. He was much surprised at " The Beggar on
Horseback," and asked me if " The Beggar on Horse
back " was like " The Agreeable Surprise." The new
piece is very low, to be sure, and yet it diverted me ;
but you know I like extremes, and next to perfect wit,
perfect nonsense, when it is original A sort of folly
I do not admire is air-balloons ; but I believe their
reign is over. They say, Monsieur Pilatrier and an
other man have been burnt to cinders, and Mr. Sadler
has not been heard of yet.
The old, mad, drunken Duke of Norfolk is going to
be married again to a Miss Eld, who is forty years old
and a Protestant.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 221
Tuesday.
I could not finish my letter yesterday, for Lord
Sandwich, who was to breakfast with me, arrived
sooner than I expected. He brought Mr. Noble with
him, the author of the History of the Cromwells, and
Mr. Selwyn came to dinner with us, and the latter
stayed all night. Lord Sandwich has taken the patron
age of Mr. Noble, as Hinchinbrook was the residence
of Oliver, and the second edition will be much more
accurate and curious than the first. I could but look
with admiration at the earl, who at our age can enter
so warmly into any pursuits and find them amusing !
It is pleasant to have such spirits, that after going
through such busy political scenes, he can be diverted
with carrying a white wand at Handel's jubilee, and
for two years together ! Do you think Lord Lansdowne
would be content with being master of the ceremonies
at Bath ? The papers tell a different story from mine
of poor Pilatrier's exit. I hope it will prevent Mr.
Fitzpatrick""" from such an expedition. It would be
silly to break one's neck in going no whither ; don't
you think so, madam ?

LETTER CCLXXV. Strawberry Hill, June 30, 1785.
" Icarus Icariis nomina fecit aquis."
Thanks to the powers of the air that Mr. Fitz
patrick has not new-christened the Thame or the Isis !
* Colonel Fitzpatrick went up alone in a balloon, from Oxford ; he
had engaged to go with Mr. Sadler, but just at the time of starting, it
was found to be unfit for two, — Ed.

222 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
nor dyed the Saxon White Horse black ! Why did he
ascend from Oxford ? He should have left the laureate
to get another fall from the White Horse. Mr. Fitz
patrick had given ample proofs of his spirit before,
and therefore I hope he will now lie on his arms.
As to me, madam, if I gathered a chaplet and
crowned myself, at least your ladyship planted the
tree, of which I plucked a branch. You did not utter
the words crown of laurel; but you did say, I was
reposing under my own laurels, therefore I may justly
plead with our prime ancestor, that the woman
tempted me and I did eat ; yet I did not swallow a
leaf — but no more of that.
I can make as just a defence on my omission of
Lord Barrington, of which here is the simple narrative.
As he was an obscure Presbyterian writer, I had never
heard of him when I published my first edition.
Being then told of him, I asked his son, the present
lord, for a list of his works. His lordship, conscious
that his parent, who had been a great rogue, had
better be forgotten, desired as a favour, that I would not
repair the omission, and therefore I did not. His bro
ther the Bishop of Salisbury, who was not so discreet,
and who did not like to lose the authorship out of the
genealogy, inserted his father's life in the " New Bio-
graphia," and in grateful return for my " noli prosequi,"
ascribed the punishment of his own father's knavery
to an act of revenge in mine. In short, the late Lord
Barrington was expelled the House of Commons for
being concerned in a gross bubble called the Hamburgh

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 223
Lottery; and the bishop pretends (which his father
himself never did) that the expulsion was procured by
Sir Robert Walpole, because Lord Barrington, who
twice sold the Presbyterians to the Court, had been
attached to Lord Sunderland. Lord Barrington, in the
next editions of the Royal and Noble authors, will find
his proper place, though he did not in the first edition —
nor in the pillory. I beg you will send for a new book
called " Letters of Literature," by Robert Heron, Esq.
It is an extraordinary work, in which there is a variety
of knowledge and a great mixture of parts. There are
several things to which I do not at all agree ; others
much to my mind ; but which will not be popular. I
never heard of Robert Heron before, but he does not
seem to design to remain in obscurity, nor averse to
literary warfare, whence I conclude he is young ; and
you will see from every page, madam, that he will not
want antagonists.
I have been for two or three days in town, where I
heard two Hessian French horns, who are reckoned
supereminent. They are as reasonable as March, the
tooth-drawer ; they ask but ten guineas for an even
ing. I heard, too, what diverted me more, an imperti
nence of Mr. Hastings when he was last in England.
Lord Huntingdon, by way of acknowledging him, told
him he believed they were related — " No, my lord,"
said Hastings, " I am descended from Hastings, Earl of
Pembroke," meaning that he was of the elder branch.
Judge how the blood of Clarence boiled ! " I thought,"
said the earl, " that there were no descendants of that

224 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
branch left but the Marchioness of Grey," and turned
on his heel. I wish he had replied, " I thought you
were only of the branch of green Hastings."
I am now settled on my hill a melancholy widower ;
Lady Browne has left Twickenham. As she was my
newsmonger, I shall know even less than I used to do.
All this morning I have been busy in placing Henry VII.
in the state bed-chamber, and making a new arrange
ment of pictures. It is really a very royal chamber
now and much improved. Besides the family of
Henry VIII. over the chimney as before, and Queen
Maintenon over one of the doors, there are Henry VII.
and Catherine of Braganza on one side of the bed;
Henry VIII. and Henriette Duchess of Orleans on the
other. There will be a much prettier room soon at
the other end of the village ; Lady Di. is painting
another, with small pictures framed with wreaths of
flowers "  Flowers worthy of Paradise !"
there is already a wreath of honeysuckles, surpassing
her own lilacs, and such as she only could paint and
Milton describe ; and there is a baby Bacchus so
drunk ! and so pretty ! borne in triumph by baccha
nalian Cupids. Twickenham does not vie with the
pomps of Stowe, but, like the modest violet, qui se cach-
oit sous Therbe, has its humble sweets.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 225

LETTER CCLXXVI.
Strawberry Hill, Monday night, July 4, 1785.
I write again so quickly, madam, not to detain
Mr. Fitzpatrick's letter, for which I give you many
thanks, and which you must value as it is so very
sensible and unaffected an account of his aerial jaunt,
and deserves to be preserved in your Milesian archives ;*
for, whether aerostation becomes a professional art, or
is given up with the prosecution of the Tower of
Babel and other invasions on the coast of Heaven, an
original letter under the hand of the first airgonauts
will always be a precious curiosity.
I have just been reading a work by a new noble
authoress, a princess of the blood of Clarence, and a
lady deeply versed in the antiquities of the country
where the great Brian Mac Gill Patrick was seated, as
well as of the Phoenicians, Egyptians, Gauls, &c. It is
the present Countess of Moira, whose letter to her son
is in the new seventh volume of the " Archaeologia,"
and gives an account of a skeleton and its habiliments
lately discovered in the county of Down and barony of
Linalearty. Oh ! but I have better news for you, madam, if you
have any patriotism as a citizen of this world and wish
its longevity. Mr. Herschell has found out that our
globe is a comely middle-aged personage, and has not
so many wrinkles as several stars, who are evidently
* I am sorry it is hot, at least, I cannot find it. — Ed.
VOL. II. Q

226 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
our seniors. Nay, he has discovered that the milky
way is not only a mob of stars, but that there is
another dairy of them still farther off, whence, I con
clude, comets are nothing but pails returning from
milking, instead of balloons filled with inflammable
air, which must by this time have made terrible havoc
in such thickets of worlds, if at all dangerous ; now I
shall descend, as if out of a balloon, from the heavens
to the milkwoman. It is no doubt extraordinary that
the poor soul should write tolerably ; but, when she
can write tolerably, is not it extraordinary that a Miss
Seward should write no better ? I am sick of these
sweet singers, and advised that when poor Mrs. Yearsley
shall have been set at her ease by the subscription, she
should drive her cows from the foot of Parnassus and
hum no more ditties. For Chatterton, he was a
gigantic genius, and might have soared I know not
whither. In the poems, avowed for his, is a line, that
Rowley nor all the monks in Christendom could or
would have written, and which would startle them all
for its depth of thought and comprehensive expression
from a lad of eighteen —
"Reason a thorn in Revelation's side !"
I will read no more of Rousseau ; his confessions
disgusted me beyond any book I ever opened. His
hen, the schoolmistress, Madame de Genlis, the news
papers say, is arrived in London. I nauseate her too ;
the eggs of education that both he and she laid, could
not be hatched till the chickens would be ready to die

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 227
of old age. I revere genius ; I have a dear friendship
for common sense ; I have a partiality for professed
nonsense ; but I abhor extravagance, that is given for
the quintessence of sense, and affectation that pretends
to be philosophy. Good night, madam !
P.S. Pray tell me where your new library is placed.
The parson of Teddington and his wife were robbed,
at half an hour after nine last night, by three footpads,
with pistols, at my back gate. My housekeeper heard
the bustle from her room that is over the Holbein
chamber. I was in the library, but knew nothing
of the matter till to-day. It is agreeable to have
banditti at one's doors !

LETTER CCLXXVII. Strawberry Hill, July 9, 1785.
I am sorry Lord Ossory has any Irish difficulties,
great or small.
I made no commentary on General Oglethorpe's
death, madam, because his very long life was the great
curiosity, and the moment he is dead the rarity is
over ; and, as he was but ninety-seven, he will not
be a prodigy compared with those who reached to a
century and a half. He is like many who make a noise
in their own time from some singularity, which is
forgotten, when it comes to be registered with others
of the same genus, but more extraordinary in their
kind. How little will Dr. Johnson be remembered,
q2

228 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
when confounded with the mass of authors of his own
calibre !
I said no more on the Duchess of Bedford's broken
wrist, because I did not know of it. The Duchess of
Montrose told me she was said to have broken her leg,
but that it was not true; and that she had given
a public breakfast the next day, but did not appear at
it herself, so I concluded she had only miscarried of a
broken leg ; but ah ! madam, when old folks break
their wrists by tottering out of their own houses, is
not it a just reason for my not daring to think of
clambering up ladders, to range books, at Ampthill,
though I should have more pleasure in it than the
Duchess could have at a ball at five in the morning.
I could delight, too, in playing with Lady Anne's
orrery, and I could prattle on the planet that rolled
under your ladyship's feet ; but when I am sensible of
the lameness of my feet, why should I be more in
dulgent to my head ? I talked nonsense enough on
astronomy in my last, and I will not again violate a
maxim that I have laid down to myself, and which
I believe so true, that it ought to be repeated daily to
old people, like Saladin's " Remember thou art mortal !"
This is my maxim, " When a man's eyes, ears, or
memory decay, he ought to conclude that his under
standing decays, too, for the weaker it grows, the less
likely he is to perceive it."
When you send for Mr. Heron's book, you may write
too for the seventh volume of the Archaeologia, in which
you will find a few pages amusing, amongst several that

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 229
don't know their own meaning. I early translated the
title of these volumes, old women's logic, and seldom
do they contradict me — witness the first dissertation
in the present, cum multis aliis ; but there is a very
sensible discourse, p. 303, on the religion of the Druids,
in which the writer, unlike his companions, demolishes
fantastic reverence for barbarians, instead of discover
ing arts and sciences amongst rude nations, who had
nothing but labour and time to spare, and who put
one in mind of Lord Abercorn's answer to the gentle
man who complimented him on the growth of his trees,
" they had nothing else to do." I have lately dipped
into D'Ancarville's two volumes, in which he ascribes
universal knowledge and invention to the Scythians,
as Bryant did to the Lord knows whom ; but with all
my pertinacity in reading quartos, I could not wade
through the tautology and impertinence of D'Ancar
ville's, though he has lately been here to draw a bronze
I have of Ceres, with a bull in her lap ; and because I
have this ugly morsel, I suppose he will call me the in
genious and learned, as Mr. Daines Barrington does ;
and I had rather they would box my ears, for it is
calling one a fool that has taken his degrees. Now I
declare I have no more regard for the Phoenicians,
Pelasgians, Vies, Egyptians, Edomites, Scythians, and
Gentoos, than I have for Madame de Genlis. I read
such books as I do Mrs. Bellamy's, and believe in
them no more. The one nation worth studying was
the Greeks. In the compass of two or three centuries
half a dozen little towns, or rather one town, scarce

230 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
bigger than Brentford, discovered the standard of
poetry, eloquence, statuary, architecture, and perhaps
of painting and music ; and then the learned have the
impertinence to tell one that the Grecians borrowed
from the Egyptians, Tartars, Indians, &c. That is, they
stole the genuine principles of all beauty and all
taste from every idea of deformity and absurdity !
The Apollo and the Venus from mummies and idols
with four heads, more hands, and two legs, as immov
able as oaks in an avenue ! I concenter my admiration
in the few centuries of Greece, and for that marvellous
period in the Roman history, when five excellent
princes, though possessed of absolute power, succeeded
to one another, Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, and the two
Antonines. This is not learning : the learned are
busied in inquiring how long the world has blundered
without discovering what was worth knowing. Sunday.
P.S. After writing my letter, I learnt that by the
new arrangement of the post, it would only have
lain in town, and could not depart the same night
as usual. When I came from Lady Dysart's last
night, I found on my table the annual " Transactions
de I'Academie of Arts and Sciences," in which the
gold medal to our lord is recorded ; and his gardener's
letter, which says he could not make Lombardy poplars
grow in wet ground. The lawn beyond my flower-
garden was a morass, that I was forced to have drained,
yet before the drains were made, Lombardy poplars
grew there astonishingly ; and the first I ever saw

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 231
in England General Conway planted at the foot of his
mountain, close to the Thames, and in three years it
was of an amazing height.

LETTER CCLXXVIII. Strawberry Hill, July 23, 1785.
I am very sorry to hear that the war of bad seasons,
which has lasted eight months, has affected your lady
ship too. I never knew so much illness ; but as our
natural season, rain, is returned, I hope you will recover
from your complaints. English consumptions are attri
buted to our insular damps, but I question whether
justly. The air of the sea is an elixir, not a poison ;
and in the three sultry summers which preceded the
three last, it is notorious that our fruits were uncom
monly bad, as if they did not know how to behave in
hot weather. Nay, it is certain, that in our camps
there was scarce any sickness when the tents were
swimming ; whereas in those Italian summers the con
trary was fact. I hope I shall not be contradicted by
the experience of last night. Mrs. Keppel had, or ra
ther was to have had all London at her beautiful villa
at Isleworth. Her Grace of Devonshire was to have
been there, ay, you may stare, madam ! and her Grace
of Bedford too. The deluge in the morning, the debate
in the House of Commons, qualms in the first duchess,
and I don't know what, certainly not qualms in the
second, detained them, and no soul came from town

232 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
but Lady Duncannon, Lady Beauchamp, the two Miss
Vernons, the Boltons, the Norths, Lord William Russell,
Charles Wyndham, Colonel Gardiner, and Mr. Aston,
and none of these arrived till ten at night. Violins
were ready, but could not play to no dancers ; so at
eleven the young people said it was a charming night,
and went to paddle on the terrace over the river, while
we ancients, to affect being very hot too, sat with all
the windows in the bow open, and might as well have
been in Greenland ! Miss Vernon did not know her
brother was set out.
You surprise me, madam, by saying the newspapers
mention my disappointment of seeing Madame de
Genlis. How can such arrant trifles spread ? It is
very true, that as the hill would not go to see Madame
de Genlis, she has come to see the bill. Ten days ago
Mrs. Cosway sent me a note that madame desired a
ticket for Strawberry Hill. I thought I could not do
less than offer her a breakfast, and named yesterday
se'nnight. Then came a message that she must go to
Oxford and take her doctor's degree ; and then another,
that I should see her yesterday, when she did arrive
with Miss Wilkes and Pamela, whom she did not even
present to me, and whom she has educated to be very
like herself in the face. I told her I could not attri
bute the honour of her visit but to my late dear friend
Madame du Deffand. It rained the whole time, and
was dark as midnight, so that she could scarce distin
guish a picture ; but you will want an account of her,
and not of what she saw or could not see. Her person

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 233
is agreeable, and she seems to have been pretty. Her
conversation is natural and reasonable, not precieuse
and affected, and searching to be eloquent, as I had
expected. I asked her if she had been pleased with
Oxford, meaning the buildings, not the wretched oafs
that inhabit it. She said she had had little time ; that
she had wished to learn their plan of education, which,
as she said sensibly, she supposed was adapted to our
Constitution. I could have told her that it is directly
repugnant to our Constitution, and that nothing is
taught there but drunkenness and prerogative, or, in
their language, Church and King. I asked if it is
true that the new edition of Voltaire's works is pro
hibited : she replied, severely, — and then condemned
those who write against religion and government,
which was a little unlucky before her friend Miss
Wilkes. She stayed two hours, and returns to France
to-day to her duty. I really do not know whether
the Due de Chartres is in England or not. She
did lodge in his house in Portland Place ; but at
Paris, I think, has a hotel where she educates his
daughters. Mr. Horace Walpole (not myself) called on me yes
terday morning, when no will of the Duchess of Port
land had been found. He thinks the bulk of the col
lection will be sold, but that the duke will reserve
the principal curiosities : I hope so, for I should long
for some of them, and am become too poor to afford
them ; besides that, it is ridiculous to treat one's self
with playthings, when one's eyes are closing.

234 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
I hope the visit to Lady Ravensworth and fresh grass
will restore your ladyship's health and looks. I send
this response to Ampthill as you have given me no
direction.

LETTER CCLXXIX. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 10, 1785.
I was just getting into my chaise with Mr. Jer-
ningham to go to Park Place on Friday, when I re
ceived the honour of your ladyship's letter, and conse
quently could not answer it so punctually as I gene
rally do. We saw the new bridge at Henley, which is
complete on one side, and is most beautiful ; the bend
of the arch was regulated by General Conway himself,
on three centres, and for grace does not veil the bon
net to the Ponte di Trinita at Florence. His daugh
ter's head of the Thame is placed, and has charming
effect. The Isis is fixed too, but not yet uncovered.
They are going, not the Thame and Isis, but the father
and daughter, with the Duke of Richmond to Jersey,
and I hope the sea air will be of service to her, for I
think her far from well.
I had heard, madam, of Lady Euston's felicity in
being agreeable to Lady Ravensworth, and my niece
being charmed with her ladyship. This was no flat
tery, for it came to me indirectly from a letter to her
sister Horatia. Indeed I trust that Lady Euston's
calm temper and good sense, which resemble her
father's, will always answer to the character I have

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 235
constantly given of her, and which is just the reverse
of what that Tisiphone Lady Greenwich coined for her
— or rather lent her from her own superabundant fund
of bad qualities.
I have heard since my return, that Sir William
Hamilton's renowned vase, which had disappeared with
so much mystery, is again discovered ; not in the tomb,
but in the treasury of the Duchess of Portland, in
which I fancy it had made ample room for itself. He
told me, it would never go out of England. I do not see
how he could warrant that. The Duke and Lord
Edward have both shewn how little stability there is
in the riches of that family ; and mine has felt how
insecure the permanency of heir looms ! Lawyers,
though so like in many points, are, in respect of their
own code, the reverse of churchmen, and set it aside
just as they please.
A mightier potentate, who sets aside codes, too,
without ceremony, is going to sell part of his plunder
by auction at Brussels. I have seen the catalogues of
the jewels and pictures that are to be sold ; and I took
the trouble of counting them. Of pictures there are
above three hundred and thirty ; yet, by some num
bers left in the margin, it looks as if there were not
half a quarter of the forfeitures, though I can scarce
believe that his Imperial rapacity loves the arts better
than money. Sir Joshua Reynolds is gone to see
them ; yet there are but three of Rubens, two of
Vandyck, one of Snyder, and half a dozen of Jordan.
The rest are of old Flemish masters, and most being

236 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
large altar pieces and too big for private houses, I
should think would not sell well. It is said that the
Catholics will not purchase such sacrilegious goods ;
but we virtuosos are seldom so scrupulous.
Of pearls there are more than seventeen thousand,
probably small; and four thousand and six hundred
diamonds, all roses, besides table diamonds. I used to
imagine that most of the precious stones one sees in
churches were false, concluding priests were too wise
to lose the interest of their treasures. However, this
sale confirms a contradictory opinion that I formed
long ago ; which was, that the bushels of diamonds,
rubies, and pearls, with which the portraits of
Henry VIII. and Queen Elizabeth are so gorgeously
decked, had been embezzled from convents. The pre
sent profusion will lower their own value.
Caesar is said to have already realized three millions
sterling by the suppression of monachism ; and by that
wealth he will purchase a deluge of blood ! Such
reformers make one regret Popery ! Indeed, Mother
Reformation herself was too dearly purchased. Had I
been Luther, and been really conscientious, which I
doubt whether he was, and could have foreseen by
what torrents of gore the Church was to be purified, I
should have asked myself whether, for the benefit of
any number of future millions of souls, I had a right to
occasion the slaughter of a present million of lives ; I
should have hesitated on my mission, and I believe not
have taken out my patent.
I have been told that when this Austrian bird of

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 237
prey set about his reform, the nobility of Flanders pre
sented a memorial to him, observing that most of the
monastic had not been royal foundations, and therefore
they hoped from his Imperial equity that he would
restore to the respective families the lands which their
ancestors had given away from their posterity to the
Church. Caesar made no reply, for he could make none
that had common sense — but he did not seize an acre
or a ducat the less.
Don't imagine that I am changing sides, madam,
because I have some high church qualms. It is laud
able to suppress convents ; but it ought to be done by
forbidding any more persons to be professed. It is
inhuman to turn those adrift who either entered
conscientiously, or are too old to seek a new livelihood
by new professions. Besides, when those dear friends
the Crown and the Church fall out, I adhere to the
latter. Priests get their wealth or power by sense and
address ; monarchs by force and bloodshed : I am for
sharpers against cut-throats.

LETTER CCLXXX. Aug. 29, 1785.
It is flattering, and too flattering to me, madam,
to be supposed the author of the "Letters of Literature."
The writer has much more variety of knowledge, and of
useful knowledge, and a sounder understanding than I
have ; though I do not think that even thirty years ago
I should have written so rashly as he has done, nor so

238 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
fantastically. Far was it ever from my thoughts to
admire Dr. Akenside, (and to commend him in a work
that excommunicates imitators !) or to depreciate Boi-
leau, or not to think Moliere a genius of the first water.
Who upon earth has written such perfect comedies ! for
the " Careless Husband" is but one — the " Nonjuror "
was built on the " Tartuffe ;" and if the " Man of
Mode" and " Vanbrugh" are excellent, they are too in
delicate — and Congreve, who beats all for wit, is not al
ways natural; still less, simple. In fact I disagree with
Mr. Heron, as often as I subscribe to him ; and though
I am an enthusiast to original genius, I cannot forget
that there are two classes of authors to be venerated ;
they who invent, and they who perfect : who has been
so original as to exclude improvements ?
Well, madam, but I not only am not the author of
the Letters, but, upon my veracity, I never saw a line
of them, nor knew such a work was in embryo, till it
was left at my house in full impression.
Should a doubt remain with any man, (your ladyship
I flatter myself will not question my truth,) I will give
him an irrecusable proof of my not having had a hand
in these letters, if he will have patience to wait for it ;
and that is, that the author will write better than he
has done twenty years after I shall be underground.
In short, it is a capacity that will improve by maturity,
for it will be corrected by opponents ; if it is not har
dened into the defence of paradoxes by defending them
too ingeniously; as was the misfortune of Rousseau, who
might have excelled by writing good sense, but found

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 239
that there was a shorter path to celebrity, by climbing
the precipice of absurdity.
I cannot make the same excuse for the pious editors
of Dr. Johnson's prayers : see what it is to have friends
too honest ! How could men be such idiots as to
execute such a trust ? One laughs at every page, and
then the tears come into one's eyes when one learns
what the poor being suffered, who even suspected his
own madness 1 One seems to be reading the diary of
an old almswoman ; and, in fact, his religion was not a
step higher in its kind. Johnson had all the bigotry of
a monk, and all the folly and ignorance too. He sets
himself penances of reading two hundred verses of the
Bible per day ; proposes to learn high Dutch and Italian
at past sixty, and at near seventy begins to think of
examining the proofs (p. 160) of that religion which he
had believed so implicitly. So anile was his faith, that
on a fast-day he reproaches himself with putting a little
milk into his coffee inadvertently ! Can one check a
smile when, in his old age, one might say his dotage,
he tried to read Vossius on baptism ? — No wonder he
could only try ! — but one laughs out, when about a
dozen years before his death, he confesses he had never
yet read the " Apocrypha," though when a boy he had
heard the story of Bel and the Dragon. I wonder he
did not add, and of " Jack the Giant-killer" — for such
blind faith might easily have confounded the impres
sions of his first childhood, which lasted uninterrupted
to his second.
Methinks this specimen, and "Rousseau's Confes-

240 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
sions," should be lessons against keeping journals, which
poor Johnson thought such an excellent nostrum for
a good life. How foolish might we all appear, if we
registered every delirium ! Johnson certainly had
strong sense at intervals — of how little use was it to
himself! — but what drivellers are his disciples, who think
they honour him by laying open his every weakness !
If the Cardinal de Rohan has any biographers, or
sincere friends, the narrative will be very different.
He is in the Bastille for forging the Queen's signature to
obtain a collar of diamonds : it is supposed for a pre
sent to some woman, for his eminence is very gallant.
He is out of luck ; he might not have been sent to New
gate here for using the Queen's name to get diamonds.
Lady Waldegrave, I flatter myself, is very well,
madam : she is at Navestock.

LETTER CCLXXXI. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 19, 1785.
I am glad your lord is returned so soon, madam,
and has dispatched so many prospects, and recovered of
a law-suit, with which I did not know he was afflicted.
His expedition and success would qualify him for an
ambassador, if to be qualified for an office were a re
commendation. I have oft been puzzled to guess why
so many fools are sent about Europe on that employ
ment, which seems to demand the utmost sagacity,
shrewdness, and industry. At last I conceived this
solution of my wonder : the incapacities selected are

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 241
doubtless chosen for the resemblance they bear to the
characters of the august personages they are to repre
sent — an observation that escaped the great Wicqfort
himself. But perhaps he adapted his precepts to the
wise remark of a Spanish grandee to one of the Phillips :
" Your Majesty's self is but a ceremony." Consequently
the copy ought not to be of more value than the
original. The newspapers told us of Mr. Murray's elopement.
Pray is not it too juvenile a prank at his time of life ?
And how came the nymph to overlook that circum
stance ? A Scot, too, to commit a disinterested impru
dence, — strange !
The Duchess of Portland was a simple woman, but
perfectly sober, and intoxicated only by empty vases.
Other duchesses, it seems, can grow tipsy with
lemonade. The vase, the two thousand pounder, is,
I hear, to be sold again : but who is to buy it ? Lady
Frances Douglas tells me, from the present Duchess
of Portland, that there are great uncertainties about
the will, and that they find it difficult to distinguish
what is to be sold, and what not — so probably the
lawyers may get more than the auctioneer.
The Bristol lunatic's is a more moving story even
than the Heliconian milkwoman's. Miss Hannah More,
who is humanity itself, has laboured in the service of
both ; but the former's case is desperate.
I am much flattered, madam, by Lady Ravensworth's
reading a book on my recommendation, and more by
her liking it. I have read it three times, and admired
VOL. II. R

242 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
the sensible parts more the last time than the first.
If the author can arrive at judgment enough to winnow
his grain from the chaff, I think he will make a great
figure. He might be bold, without being extravagant.
What I most dislike in so eccentric and daring a writer,
is his patience in translating a whole "Spectator"
into his gibberish. Patience is, of all others, the vir
tue that seems the*least congenial to genius ; persever
ance is nearer allied to madness than to originality.
As this is a letter of scraps and replies, I will add
an answer that I forgot to make to a former question
of your ladyship. Pamela is a child, which Madame
de Genlis gives out is an English girl, and which she is
said to foster with more attention than her own chil
dren, or than the princesses of Orleans, to whom she
is governor, for so she is styled. Sceptics pretend that
Pamela is both her own child and a spurious Or-
leannoise. For fondness, I did not perceive the least ;
the resemblance is less obscure.
The Irish propositions seem to me to be brooding
a storm. Methinks we have a strange propensity to
gaming for our own dominions ! France, like an old
blacklegs, sits by, till the parties are heated, and she
can strip the winner. I believe I shall live till we
have not a whole island left to our back. Friday night.
I wrote my last letter after dinner, before I went to
the Duchess of Montrose. The moment after I arrived,
Mr. Cambridge, who, rather than not be the first to
trumpet a piece of news, would tell anybody the most

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 243
disagreeable news, sent a card to acquaint the duke and
duchess that, after a long debate, Mr. Orde had with
drawn his Irish bill. This occasioned a consternation,
and then a dead silence. I don't believe the officious
intelligencer will be thanked ; however, I trust this
defeat will have saved us from another civil war !

LETTER CCLXXXII. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 17, 1785.
I did conclude, madam, that the shooting cam
paign being opened, you would be pitching your tents
in Northamptonshire. Joseph IL, who is as keen a
sportsman as Lord Ossory is going to shoot in Hol
land ; Lord Rodney, who is just arrived from Spa,
brings, that forty thousand men are on their march.
Others add, that this imperial murderer is in danger
from a swelling in his side — I hope he will die soon !
His death would save two hundred thousand lives to
Europe at least.
A thousand thanks to your ladyship for the com
munication of Lady Ravensworth's letter, which I re
turn. She has expressed in two words the idea that I
have tried to give you in many, of Lady Euston's dis
position : calm sweetness and good sense describe her
exactly. I hope they will always make her worthy of
Lady Ravensworth's goodness and Lord Euston's par
tiality. Mr. Fitzpatrick's for me is not so justly
founded ; yet I am flattered by it, as perhaps one
always is, when rated too highly, at least that is the
n2

244 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
common opinion; though I confess I imagine that I
am humbled in my own eyes, when I feel conscious of
not deserving what is said of me.
Will not humility look affected, madam, when in the
same breath I ask how I may send you a new book
printed here, which might blow up some fumes of vanity
in a head that had not been so severely disciplined by
the owner as mine. It is the translation of my
essay on modern Gardens by the Due de Nivernois. I
believe I mentioned it to your ladyship. You will find
it a most beautiful piece of French, of the genuine
French spoken by the Due dc la Rochfoucault and
Madame de Sevigne, and not the metaphysical gali
matias of La Harpe and Thomas, &c. which Madame du
Deffand protested she did not understand. The ver
sions of Milton and Pope are wonderfully exact and
poetic and elegant, and the fidelity of the whole trans
lation, extraordinary. Some passages, not quite tender
to his country, I was surprised that he did not cashier.
Of the Cardinal de Rohan I know nothing new, but
that he absolutely now denies the charge. Indeed I
am not at all au fait of the story ; but I hear that
Gray, the celebrated cutler, happening to be lately at
Paris, was near being sent to the Bastille, as they sus
pected he was concerned in transmitting some of the
stolen jewels, which are in England. Some say the
whole was a plot of the Queen and Mons. de Breteuil
her creature — but how or why, I am ignorant.
Have you heard the history of our Madame de Main-
tenon ? There I am of the best authority : I know

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 245
many particulars from her own mouth. In short,
La Veuve Delany, not Scarron, sent her woman to
Windsor to get by heart the ichnography of the hotel
granted to her. When she had made herself mistress
of details, she went to dine at the White Hart. She
was recalled by a page to Miss Goldsworthy, who told
her it was his Majesty's command that she should
bring down nothing but her lady's clothes and the
boxes of her maids, for Louis le Grand is very conside
rate : she must bring no plate, china, linen, wine, &c. ;
all would be ready ; and, when exhausted, she must not
acquaint Mrs. Delany, but the aforesaid page. Louis
himself pointed out where Mdlle. Daubigny, the great
niece, should sleep, " and that room her nephew may
use." When the new favourite arrived, Louis himself
was at the door to hand her out of the chaise ; there
ends my journal. Others say that after a short visit,
elle le renvoyoit triste, mais point desesperg, Lady
Harcourt will be as jealous as the Montespan was.
My own history and gazette will both be very brief.
Dr. Burney and his daughter, Evelina Cecilia, have
passed a day and a-half with me. He is lively and
agreeable ; she, half-and-half sense and modesty, which
possess her so entirely, that not a cranny is left for
affectation or pretension. Oh ! Mrs. Montagu ; you
are not above half as accomplished.
Next, I have been two days in town to meet Mr.
Conway and Lady Ailesbury. We went to see the
prince's new palace in Pall Mall ; and were charmed.
It will be the most perfect in Europe. There is an

246 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
august simplicity that astonished me. You cannot
call it magnificent ; it is the taste and propriety that
strike. Every ornament is at a proper distance, and
not one too large, but all delicate and new, with more
freedom and variety than Greek ornaments ; and,
though probably borrowed from the Hotel de Conde
and other new palaces, not one that is not rather
classic than French. As Gobert, who was a cook, and
who was going to play the devil at Chatsworth and.
painted the old pilasters of the court there pea green,
designed the decorations, I expected a more tawdry
assemblage of fantastic vagaries than in Mrs. Cornelys's
masquerade rooms. I beg his pardon — the Black Prince
would not have blushed to banquet his royal prisoner
in so modest a dwelling. There are three most spacious
apartments, all looking on the lovely garden, a terreno,
the state apartment, and an attic. The portico, vesti
bule, hall, and staircase, will be superb, and, to my
taste, full of perspectives; the jewel of all is a small
music-room, that opens into a green recess and winding
walk of the garden. In all the fairy tales you have
been, you never was in so pretty a scene, madam : I
forgot to tell you how admirably all the carving, stucco,
and ornaments, are executed ; but whence the money
is to come I conceive not — all the tin mines in Corn
wall would not pay a quarter. How sick one shall be
after this chaste palace, of Mr. Adam's gingerbread and
sippets of embroidery !
You have heard of all the late deaths and self-mur
ders to be sure, madam. I am very sorry for my

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 247
cousin, Edward Conway, who was a most amiable young
man, but his case has long been thought desperate.
His sister, Lady Bel, is going to be married to a Mr.
Hatton, in Ireland.
I shall divert you more by my conclusion than by
this long letter, though it may serve, as you are in the
woods, and I am alone in a dark wet evening, and
therefore will make no excuses. Well ! but my con
clusion ; oh ! Sir Harry Englefield told me of a new
parody of the Christcross row, of which he could
remember but the first line, and I have forgotten the
author ; but that first line is worth a whole poem. You
recollect, madam, don't you ? that
" A was an archer, and he shot a frog."
what think you of —
A was an archer — and painted her face !
What a crop of new wits and new poets we have in
our caducity? Old people, they say, admire nothing
but what was flourishing in their youth ; I am sure, in
my youth, there was nothing like the present constella
tion. Once in a year or two, Pope, after many throes
was delivered of an imitation of Horace, and Swift now
and then sold you a bargain in short verses ; for the
rest of our time we lived upon Thompson's and Mallet's
blank tragedies, and Lord Lyttelton squirted out bal
lads to Delia no better than what are sung at Vaux-
hall. I hope this revival of wit is not lightning
before death ; nay, I do not recollect, that other totter
ing empires threw out the brightest sparks at their
extinction — Speriamo !

248 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCLXXXIII.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 27, 1785.
You are very gracious, madam, in calling yourself
in debt, when I was in yours too ; but I have had the
best or the worst reason in the world for not writing —
the having nothing to say. I know nothing, do no
thing, but write explanations of my house not being
visible after the month of October. I have had an
intercourse of letters with Sir Ralph Payne about some
Poles who would have ridden into my hall, sabre in
hand, as if it was the Diet of Grodno, and they a peo
ple still ; but I suppose they considered that we are
not !
Though these invasions, which keep me in hot water
for five months, rankle in my mind, I would not tor
ment your ladyship with them if I had not occasion
to beg your mediation. As this month of October is
the only comfortable one I have (and I cannot reckon
on many more), I am determined to keep it to myself,
and have printed rules ; nay, on the 1st, I unfurnish
it as much as I can for an excuse for not shewing it.
To my sorrow, Lady Lansdowne wrote to me after that
day for a ticket for some of her acquaintance. Had it
been for herself, I should have begged the honour of
shewing it to her myself, a dispensation I reserve in
my own breast for those I respect, as I most certainly
do Lady Lansdowne. Unluckily I had but two days
before refused a ticket to Marchioness Grey for herself,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 249
and did not offer to be my own housekeeper, as I owe
no particular attentions to the House of Yorke. How
ever, I could not personally affront a lady, as I should
have done if I had obeyed Lady Lansdowne, and there
fore trusted her ladyship would excuse me, which I
beg, madam, you will repeat to her, and tell her my
case and concern.
Now, madam, do you wonder I do not write ? In
stead of lamentations on Kirby, I can think of nothing
but the groans of Strawberry : in verity, instead of
writing, could time be recalled, I never would be an
author. I am sick of my own trumpery, and if humi
lity were not the mask of vanity, I would tell you why
— but they would be all vain or selfish reasons — and so
no matter what they are.
I condole with your ladyship and Lady Ravensworth
on the loss of the good General, and I am glad Lord
Ossory tripped up the blacklegs.
I have had, and still have, a sad scene before my
eyes ; my poor honest servant, David, is dying of a
dropsy, has been tapped twice, suffers dreadfully, wishes
it over, and does not care for the trouble of another
operation — so if Queens or Dukes of Wirtemberg come
to see my house, nobody will send them away ! What
a wonderful contrast between poor David and Dubois,
a valet de chambre of Louis treize, who has given an
account of that monarch's death, which has just been
lent to me ! After receiving the Sacrament avec de
grosses larmes, the slave adds, and " des elevations
d'esprit, qui faisoient connoitre evidemment un com-

250 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
merce d'amour entre leurs Majestes Divines et hu-
maines." I suppose the poor reptile expected that
Louis would in heaven take place of the first prince of
the blood ! When human folly, or rather French folly,
can go so far, it would be trifling to instance a much
fainter silliness ; but do you know, madam, that the
fashion now is, not to have portraits but of an eye f
They say, " Lord ! don't you know it ? " A French
man is come over to paint eyes here !
I am not so partial as not to like the retort of
Charles V. I would not advise Mr. Mason to go to
Court, if Charles were living ; nor will I go to Vienna.
When General Johnstone returned a fortnight ago, I
told him I hoped he had left everybody well in Ger
many but the Emperor. The postman stays — not that
I can pretend to have a word more to say.

LETTER CCLXXXIV. Berkeley Square, Nov. 16, 1785.
By coming hither an hour ago, I am so fortunate
as to be able to thank your ladyship instantly for your
most kind letter on Lady Euston's delivery. I am still
more pleased with the very proper manner in which
it was notified to you. Lady Horatio, who is with her
sister, tells Miss Keppel that Lord Euston is delighted
with his daughter ; it was for a daughter he wished ;
there certainly is no danger of the line of Fitzroy fail
ing for want of an heir male.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 251
I am in debt, madam, for another letter which I
received at Park Place, where I have been for some
days ; but Park Place furnished me with no more
events than Strawberry Hill ; and I must own that
when I can tell nothing that will amuse, which seldom
happens to me now, living as I do out of the world,
and having outlived so many of my friends and ac
quaintance, I am shy of writing ; for why should one
write when one has little or nothing to say ? I cannot
compose letters like Pliny and Pope.
Your ladyship's query I can answer by heart.
Richard Duke of York, who was supposed murdered in
the Tower, was, though an infant, married solemnly by
his father, Edward IV., to Anne-Mowbray, Duchess of
Norfolk, and the heiress of that house, and still more a
baby than himself. She died very soon ; probably
though I could never find exactly when, before the
King, for it was in right of having married, or having
been son of, her aunt (I forget which), that John
Howard was created Duke of Norfolk by Richard III.,
and was the Jocky of Norfolk slain at Bosworth.
You now see, madam, why I know so much of the
matter off-hand.
I am come to town for two or three days on a little
private business of my own, and to quit a horrid scene.
My poor honest Swiss, David, has been dying of a
dropsy for seven or eight months, and has suffered
dreadfully. I have seen him but once since my return,
as he has been speechless, and I flatter myself sense
less, since last Saturday ; but he groans shockingly ;

252 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
and though I trusted to hearing he was gone this
morning, he was still alive, but motionless. I shall
not go back to Strawberry till he is buried. As your
ladyship says Lady Ravensworth is in town, I shall
endeavour to pay my duty to her. I am much pleased
with the good old general's legacy ; and don't wonder
your ladyship is so, though it will scarce purchase
half an acre of a modern hat.
As the ashes of the Cecils are rekindling, perhaps a
Phoenix may arise ! I remember Lord Hervey saying
that everything degenerated and dwindled, and in
stancing in the last Lord Salisbury, who he said was
the cucumber of Burleigh. Well then, as matters, when
they can go no lower, may mount again, who knows
what may happen, madam ? Some melon-seeds, that
have been neglected and not cultivated in the hot
house of a great family, may fall on good ground, and
bring forth brave melons. Thus my father sprung from
a granddaughter of Lord Burleigh, and then dwindled
to the Gerkin— H. W.

LETTER CCLXXXV.

Berkeley Square, Friday, 18th.
As I could mean only respect, madam, on your
ladyship's telling me Lady Ravensworth was in town,
I am glad you have prevented my troubling her with
a visit, which I should have made this evening, and
which, as I return to Strawberry to-morrow, will be
as well made by the intention. My breeding de vieille

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 253
cour makes me attend to certain ceremonials ; but the
slightest dispensation quiets the etiquette of my con
science, especially if it can give any kind of disturbance
to anybody.
A marriage is agreed on between Mr. Pratt and
Miss Molesworth ; but, as there is still a moment be
tween the cup and her lip, it may not be recorded in
fate's parish-register.
My poor servant died in a few hours after I left him.
Mr. Morrice, I hear, is dead, too, which must be as great
a deliverance.

LETTER CCLXXXVI.
Berkeley Square, Friday night, Jan. 27, 1786.
As the first part entertained your lady-and-lord-
ships, it is but a sort of duty to send you the second.
I received a little Italian note from Mrs. Cosway, this
morning, to tell me that, as I had last week met at her
house an old acquaintance, without knowing her, I
might meet her again this evening, en connoissance de
cause, as Mile, la Chevaliere Deon, who, as Mrs. Cos-
way told me, had taken it ill that I had not recon
noitred her, and said she must be strangely altered —
the devil is in it, if she is not ! — but, alack ! I have
found her altered again ; adieu to the abbatial dignity
that I had fancied I discovered ; I now found her loud,
noisy, and vulgar ; in truth, I believe she had dined
a little en dragon. The night was hot, she had no
muff or gloves, and her hands and arms seem not to

254 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
have participated of the change of sexes, but are fitter
to carry a chair than a fan. I am comforted, too,
about her accent. I asked Monsieur Barthelemy, the
French secretary, who was present, whether it was
Parisian and good French : he assured me so far from
it, that the first time he met her, he had been sur
prised at its being so bad, and that her accent is strong
Burgundian. You ask me, madam, why she is here ?
She says, pour ses petites affaires ; I take for granted,
for the same reason that Francis was here two years
before he was known.
Nor was this all my entertainment this evening. As
Mademoiselle Common of Two's reserve is a little sub
sided, there were other persons present, as three foreign
Ministers besides Barthelemy, Lord Carmarthen, Count
Oghinski, Wilkes and his daughter, and the chief of the
Moravians. I could not help thinking how posterity
would wish to have been in my situation, at once with
three such historic personages as Deon, Wilkes, and
Oghinski, who had so great a share in the revolution of
Poland, and was king of it for four-and-twenty hours.
He is a noble figure, very like the Duke of Northum
berland in the face, but stouter and better proportioned.
I remember many years ago making the same kind
of reflection. I was standing at my window after din
ner, in summer, in Arlington-street, and saw Patty
Blount, (after Pope's death,) with nothing remaining
of her immortal charms but her blue eyes, trudging on
foot with her petticoats pinned up, for it rained, to visit
blameless Bethel, who was sick at the end of the street.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 255
Early in the evening I had been, according to your
ladyship's leave, to wait on Lady Ravensworth. Her
cough is very frequent, but it seems entirely from her
throat, and not in the least from her breast.
After treating your ladyship with some of the dra
matis personce of modern story, I beg leave to inclose *
a Venus of the present hour in her "puris non natura-
libus." The drawing was made by a young lady at
Bath, and was given to me by my sister. It diverted
me so much that I gave it to Kirgate, with leave to
have it engraved for his own benefit, and I should think
he would sell hundreds of them.
Miss Hannah More, I see, has advertised her " Bas-
bleus," which I think you will like. I don't know what
her "Florio" is. Mrs. Frail Piozzi's first volume of
" Johnsoniana" is in the press, and will be published in
February. There is published another kind of Ana,
called " Silva," by a Dr. Heathcote, on which I advise
your ladyship not to throw away five shillings as I did
— yet I could not read half-a-crown's worth ; it is a
heap of dull common-place.

LETTER CCLXXXVII.

Friday night, Feb. 10, 1786.
As your ladyship announced your speedy arrival
in town ; and as I suppose few read the second edi
tion of a book after reading the first, I forbore to

* Not inclosed in the MSS. — Ed.

256 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
send you a second edition of my gout; yet I have
had a black-letter one. My healed finger opened
again, and for this week my surgeon has been pick
ing chalk-stones out of both hands as if he were
shelling peas. The gout returned, too, into my right
hand and elbow, and swelled both. In short, since
Wednesday was s'ennight, I have been prisoner a
second time, and when my durance will end, I do not
guess. When you do come, madam, you will not hear
much of Mr. Eden or Mrs. Jordan, or of the " Heiress,"
which, by the way, I went through twice in one day,
and liked better than any comedy I have seen since
the " Provoked Husband ;" I like the prologue, too,
very much ; the epilogue is unworthy of both. Oh !
but the hubbub you are to hear, and to talk of, and
except which, you are to hear and talk of nothing
else, for they tell me the passengers in the streets,
of all ranks, talk of it, is a subject to which I suppose
your letters have already attuned you, and on which
I alone, for certain reasons, will say nothing ; but
if you don't guess, madam, I will give you a clue :
don't you remember that, after Louis Quatorze had
married the Maintenon, and the Dauphin Mademoi
selle Chouin, the Duchess of Burgundy said to her
husband, " Si je vends d mourir, feriez vous le troi-
sieme tome de votre famille ? " — You may swear that
my mysterious silence is not dated from any privity
or knowledge : I do not know a tittle from any good
authority ; and though a mass of circumstances are

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 257
cited and put together, they command no credit :
whoever believes, must believe upon trust. The rest
must be the work — or the explosion of time, though
secrecy does not seem to be the measure most affected.
To divert the theme, how do you like, madam, the
following story? A young Madame de Choiseul is
inloved with by Monsieur de Coigny, and Prince
Joseph of Monaco. She longed for a parrot that
should be a miracle of eloquence : every other shop
in Paris sells mackaws, parrots, cockatoos, &c. No
wonder one at least of the rivals soon found a Mr.
Pitt, and the bird was immediately declared the
nymph's first minister : but as she had two passions
as well as two lovers, she was also enamoured of
General Jackoo at Astley's. The unsuccessful candi
date offered Astley ingots for his monkey, but Astley
demanding a terre for life, the paladin was forced to
desist, but fortunately heard of another miracle of
parts of the Monomotapan race, who was not in so
exalted a sphere of life, being only a marmiton in a
kitchen, where he had learnt to pluck fowls with in
imitable dexterity. This dear animal was not in
valuable, was bought, and presented to Madame de
Choiseul, who immediately made him the secretaire
de ses commandemens. Her caresses were distributed
equally to the animals, and her thanks to the donors.
The first time she went out, the two former were
locked up in her bed-chamber : how the two latter
were disposed of, history is silent. Ah ! I dread to
tell the sequel. When the lady returned, and flew
VOL. II. s

258 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
to her chamber, Jackoo the second received her with
all the empressement possible — but where was Poll ?
— found at last under the bed, shivering and cowering
— and without a feather, as stark as any Christian.
Poll's presenter concluded that his rival had given the
monkey with that very view, challenged him, they
fought, and both were wounded ; and an heroic ad
venture it was !
I have not paper or breath to add more, madam,
but to thank you for inverting the story of Poll, and
feathering my Venus. I hope I shall have occasion
to send you no more letters ; but that if I cannot
wait on you, you will have charity enough to come
and visit the chalk-pits in Berkeley Square.

LETTER CCLXXXVIII. Strawberry Hill, July 5, 1786.
It is no wonder, madam, that I durst not recom
mence, who know that I ought to think of nothing but
finishing. Your ladyship tells me of my lively ideas,
and the newspapers flatter me that I am a well-pre
served veteran ; but my weak fingers, my tottering
steps, and above all, my internal looking-glass, are
more faithful monitors, and whisper certain truths to
one ear, that the sycophant self-love at the other ear
cannot obliterate. Indeed I had nothing to write ; I
know nothing, and the sameness of summers makes
me afraid of repeating what I may have said twenty
times. The great lines of my little life are indeed

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 259
(very contrary to my intentions and to all the colour
of my progress) marked with red letters like the
almanac, that is, tinged by princes and princesses.
Princess Amelie breakfasted here last week, and I have
dined again at Gunnersbury, where were the Prince
of Wales and the Prince of Mecklenberg ; and that
dinner produced an event which composes my whole
annal. They went to drink tea at the dairy. I did
not choose to limp so far, and stayed behind with
Lady Barramore, Lady Clermont, and Mrs. Howe.
However, I was summoned and forced to go. It was
to command me to write verses on Gunnersbury —
" Lord ! madam, said I, " I am superannuated." She
insisted. " Well, madam, if I must, your royal high
ness shall have an ode on your next birthday." All
would not save me, though I protested against the
rigour of the injunction. As it happened, the fol
lowing trifle came into my head in the coach as I
returned home : — i.
In deathless odes for ever green
Augustus' laurels blow ;
Nor e'er was grateful duty seen
In warmer strains to flow.

Oh ! why is Flaccus not alive
Your fav'rite scene to sing f
To Gunnersbury's charms could give
His lyre immortal spring.
in.
As warm as his my zeal for you
Great Princess, could I shew it —
But though you have a Horace too —
Ah ! madam, he 's no poet. s 2

260 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
I sent it next morning to her breakfast, and re
ceived this gracious and genteel answer : —
"I wish I had a name that could answer your
pretty verses. Your yawning yesterday opened your
vein for pleasing me, and I return you my thanks, my
good Mr. W., and remain sincerely your friend, "Amelie."
To explain this, your ladyship must know that the
ancient laureate gaped in the evening at the com
merce-table, which I can tell Miss Burney, is a great
sin on any Palatine hill. The moment the princess
came hither t'other morning and spied the shield with
Medusa's head on the staircase, she said, " Oh ! now I
see where you learnt to yawn."
I am glad for her interest, but sorry for my own,
that Evelina and Cecilia are to be transformed into a
Madame de Motteville, as I shall certainly not live to
read her " Memoirs," though I might another novel.
I readily believe that Lord Euston's little girl is a
fine child, madam ; I never saw her, but she has good
claims : nor do I know where Lord Euston is absent.
My nepotism is so very extended, that I cannot fol
low their sojournings through the maps of so many
counties, nay, nor of countries.
This summer may be very fine, but it is not quite
to my taste : the sun never appears till as late as the
fashionable people in town ; and then has not much
more warmth. However, he has made me amends in
hay : I asked why they were so long mowing one of my

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 261
meadows ? they said it was so thick they could not
cut it. I have really double the quantity of any
other year : yet I doubt these riches will not idemnify
me for the Portland sale !— however, here my collec
tion closes : I will not buy sparks, since I have ac
quired such a bulse of jewels — adieu ! madam, the
modern post goes out so early, that I shall scarce
save it.

LETTER CCLXXXIX. Strawberry Hill, July 22, 1786.
In your last, madam, you sent me a list of topics,
on which we are not to talk for fear of disagreeing. It
would be exceedingly difficult for me to disagree with
your ladyship on all of them, as of some I know no
more than a babe unborn ; nor of the rest more than
the newspapers, which are not my rule of faith, tell
me. Moreover, as I neither love disputation, nor
have any zeal for making converts, I shall certainly
tap no subject on which I might be likely not to be of
your ladyship's sentiments. As far as I know what
your political sentiments are, I should rather imagine
that we do agree, for I am sure you are in the right,
and I am not quite ready to think that I am in the
wrong, as we neither of us ever think or act from
partiality, prejudice, or motives of personal affection
or resentment : and principles being less subject to be
warped than our passions, it is probable that our
opinions are perfectly consonant; and when that is the

262 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
case, it is still more useless to discuss topics on which
we already know each other's mind. A neutral person
perhaps would conclude that one of us at least must
be very determined to think everything right on one
side and wrong on the other, when, on a medley of
questions of the most heterogeneous natures, we dare
not touch one for fear of squabbling. But such a
person would be strangely in the dark, from not know
ing that I am always ready to change my opinions
in conformity to yours ; and that you are so persuaded
of my deference to your sentiments, that out of gene
rosity you will not start a thought that might at first
sight create a doubt in me, and that at the next
minute I might adopt as being yours, before I was
clearly convinced of its being well founded : though I
should indubitably find it so on knowing the grounds
of your reasoning. At present I am so totally in the
dark on all that is passing, and whatever does happen
is of so little importance to one of my age, and who
has no children who will be interested in the conse
quences, that to save myself the trouble of uneasy
prospects, I determine to think with Pope that
" Whatever is, is right,"
and in that composure I am secure of not disagreeing
with your ladyship.
I wish this district supplied me with any matter
that would entertain you; but a village near the
capital has only the news and the fish that have been
hawked about in town. Poor Lord Grantham is dead,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 263
I do believe, though the papers say so ; but I heard
two days ago that he could not outlive the night.
I hope our daily oracles lie, according to their
laudable practice, about the Whiteboys ; at least I
flatter myself that our lord's domains are unmolested
by them. I am surprised they are not quieted and all
made peers.
I shall go to London next week to see Mrs. Damer
who is expected from Paris. If the weather continues
as cold as it has been these two last nights, I will
settle for the winter.

LETTER CCXC. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 2, 1786.
You would have been very unjust, my dear lady,
which you are not, if you had been seriously angry
with me for joking with you on your politics ; you said
you would not name them lest we should disagree : I,
on my side, with the same good and peaceable inten
tion, and who, you really know, never do dispute about
anything, replied jesting. Now it would have been
hard if you had been offended at my listing under De-
mocritus, when you yourself had pointed out to me
to avoid Heraclitus. I had rather be ready, with Dr.
Warton, to panegyricize everything ; but when he
himself is reduced to generals, and can find no par
ticular theme for an encomium, it is fair for me to
resort to one of the other three divisions ; for politics
must range under one of the four : one must admire,

264 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
lament, laugh at, or be indifferent about whatever
happens. My time of life, and the multitude of
events I have seen, dispose me to indifference ; but
to keep up good humour, when you were afraid of our
being too grave, I preferred smiling— and there I hope
the matter will rest. It is for this reason I reply so
soon, and because you are going to wander, and I
might not know where to overtake you.
I have heard that the Duke of Bedford has ordered
Mr. Palmer to have all his palaces ready for him ;
which is considered as an expulsion of the Queen
Dowager. If it is only to make room for another
antique, old woman for old woman, I should think
one's own grandmother might be preferable to one
that, for many reasons, might be grandmother of half
London ; but, as about politics, I leave everybody to
judge for himself, nor is it any business of mine
whether young Hamlet speaks daggers to Gertrude or
not. The vase for which your ladyship is so good as to
interest yourself, was not the famous Cat's lofty vase,
nor one of any consequence, but a vase and dish of
Florentine Fayence, that stood under the table in the
round chamber ; nor had I the least concern but for
the company who were so grieved at the accident.
With the troops that come, I am amazed I have not
worse damage ; however, I am sometimes diverted too.
Last week a scientific lady was here, and exactly at
the moment that I opened the cabinet of enamels, she
turned to a gentleman who came with her, and entered

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 265
into a discussion of the ides and calends. Another gen
tlewoman was here two days ago, who has seen a good
half century : she said, " Well I must live another
forty years to have time to see all the curiosities of
this house." These little incidents of character do not
make me amends for being the master of a puppet-
show, for though I generally keep behind the scenes,
I am almost as much disturbed as if I constantly
exhibited myself — and
E'en Sunday shines no Sabbath day to me !
P. S. — I am told that this has been a fine summer
— and in one respect I allow it, for it has brought the
winter so forward already, that my grate was in full
blow on Monday night with a good fire !

LETTER CCXCI. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 30, 1786.
How the Israelites contrived to make bricks with
out straw, I cannot tell ; though, to be sure, there are
succedaneums for everything. Letters, I know, can
be made of lies, as well as newspapers ; and we have
large manufactures at Richmond and Hampton Court
wrought by old ladies themselves, as they used to make
japan, by cutting prints to pieces and daubing them
over with colours and varnish ; and they are so gene
rous that they give their wares to any body that will
retail them. But though I am hard driven to keep
up a correspondence in these halcyon days when there

266 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
are no more events than in Paradise, not even a new
peer made, I neither care to coin nor clip : by the
way, I wonder what people will do in the next world
for want of newspapers, where everything will be
settled to all eternity, and where we know there is to
be no marrying or giving in marriage, and then of
course there will be no lyings in, no Gretna Greens,
&c, &c. Pray, madam, do you think there will be
any change of fashions ? Do angels always wear the
same patterns for their clothes ? Oh ! I find I could
make a letter long enough if I were to indulge all
the questions that rush into my head ; but I will
return to earth and grovel, as I generally do, within
the bounds of my own parish. I have, indeed, been
for a few days at Park Place, and seen the delight of
my eyes, the new bridge at Henley —
" A Senator of Rome, while Rome survived,"
would have allowed it worthy of the Tiber : and it tra
verses a river a thousand times more beautiful ; and
some Verres, I suppose some time or other, will strip it
of Mrs. Darner's colossal masks, and transport them
to the capital of Europe, or America, or wherever that
is to be. The emperor, to be sure, intends it shall be
Vienna, now the King of Prussia is dead. As I hate
both those heroes, and all such captains of banditti, I
shall go up to Berlin with no address of condolence 
not that I disdain knighthood on a good occasion, and
have offered to accept it, if my addresses are accepted.
You must know, Lady Charleville has taken a house
between my niece, Mrs. Keppel, and the Duchess of

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 267
Montrose. That dowager has buried Captain Mayne,
her second consort, whom she married in an arbour by
moonlight, and whom she obliged to take her family
name of Coghill that he might be her heir, as he was
certainly fitter to be her son than her husband ; and
she remains possessed of 6000/. a-year but no child.
Therefore I have commissioned my two friends above
mentioned to propose me, and to offer that I will con
descend to be Sir Horatio Coghill ; and if she will
waive the arbour scene, she being still more gouty than
I am, I engage that like old Jack Harris and his first
wife, I will ring the bell and order the groom of the
chamber to wheel us to one another, when we have a
need to kiss. You shall know, madam, if the treaty
succeeds, and may depend on having a favour.
I admire the duchess dowager for holding out Wo
burn to the last moment. We shall now see which of
the venerable matrons triumphs. I hope Duchess
Nancy will call in Mr. Hastings — he would turn the
old begum into the highway in her pattens, and boast
of it when he had done.
I conclude your campaign in Farming- Woods is now
opening, madam. Mr. Hatton, I hear, intends to refit
Kirby, and inhabit it, and as he has the true patina
of the Finches, —
"Will breathe a browner horror on the woods."
I like the restoration of those ancient palaces, and I
suppose it will now be accessible as this age has
invented good roads, which our worthy ancestors, did
not think at all a necessary ingredient in living com-

268 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
fortably. We are so effeminate that we hate being
jolted to death, or dug out of a hollow way — but every
thing degenerates !
Mr. Fox, I am told, is at Cheltenham entirely occu
pied with taming a young rabbit. This is Mr. Hare's
account ; but he is partial, — for my part I suspect that
he is teaching it to exercise that terrible weapon a
dessert-knife. But whether he is or not, I think there
ought to be an act of parliament against eating any
thing but spoon-meat.
Lady Charleville has just sent me a flat refusal ; so
that if I have a mind to have children of my own to
inherit Strawberry, I must look for —
Arbutei foetus alibi —
This is a little disappointment ; but when one has
threescore nephews and nieces, one cannot want heirs.
Nay, I still want a month of sixty-nine — nous verrons.

LETTER CCXCII. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 28, 1786.
As I conclude, madam, that by this time you are,
at least, as real an inhabitant of the woods as Peter
the wild boy, or that guileless savage the Marquis of
Lansdowne, who would make one believe, like Biddy
Tipkin in the "Tender Husband," that he lives on
hips and haws, and is mighty fond of pignuts. I
direct to Farming-Woods rather than to the honor
of Ampthill. I should have answered your last sooner,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 269
but had nothing to tell you ; and at present all my
gleanings would not load a parish girl's little paw.
Except the sad deaths of two happy young women
Lady Graham and Lady Harriet Elliot, I know no
event but the death of Mr. Charles Hamilton, one
of my patriarchs of modern gardening, who has been
killed by Anstey, author of the " Bath Guide." Mr.
Hamilton, who had built a house in the Crescent, was
also at eighty-three eager in planting a new garden,
and wanted some acres, which Anstey, his neighbour,
not so ancient, destined to the same use. Hamilton
wrote a warm letter on their being refused ; and
Anstey, who does not hate a squabble in print, as
he has more than once shewn, discharged shaft upon
shaft against the poor veteran, and
" The grey goose quill that was thereon
In his heart's blood was wet ;"
for he died of the volley, as even a goose quill will
do the feat at eighty-three, and surely, since the
first edition of the " Bath Guide," never was a duller
goose than Anstey ! This is a literary anecdote, not
much known, I believe, in the coffee-houses on Par
nassus. I was last week of a small party at Lady Clifford's
at Richmond, and half of the company consisted of
pinchbeck royalties, for there were the grandmother
Princess Dowager Mrs. Molyneux, her son-in-law, Mr.
Smyth, father of Ines de Castro, his sister, Lady Lang-
dale, and I. Lady Mary Coke, who envies us for
having mixed our alloy with the standard, when her

270 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
own counterfeit is but a Birmingham shilling that
never had the impress and titles on it, would swear
that we met to hatch a new Gunpowder Plot. It is
incredible how she has toiled tooth and nail to couple
Ines with Margery Nicholson. For my part, the ren
contre put me in mind of Lady Dorchester, who
meeting the Duchess of Portsmouth and Lady Orkney
in the drawing-room at Windsor in the beginning of
George I. cried out, " Heavens ! who would have thought
that we three royal w  s should meet here !" Oct. 1st.
I began my letter three days ago, and it was barren
enough, so I postponed it on a prospect of imperial
recruits. I had notice that the archduke and arch
duchess desired a ticket to see
My gothic Vatican of Greece and Rome,
and that I would name the day. I replied, I could
not presume to send a ticket, or name a day, but that
their royal highnesses might command me and my
nutshell whenever they pleased, if they would be so
good as to excuse such a reception as a decrepit old
man could give them. Accordingly I made no prepa
ration but of coffee, tea, and chocolate ; and as I am a
courtier of the old rock, only two cups were set for
their arch-highnesses in the round chamber, and none
for their suite. In two days I could not make an
entertainment, nor do I pique myself on vulgar osten
tation, nor could light up the garden with coloured
lamps by daylight, and when the leaves are falling
and my orange trees gone into winter quarters. It

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 271
was intimated that I might expect them to-day. The
morning was of the best October gold, and the sun
himself came to do the honours of my house ; how
ever, I began to fear they would serve him as they
did at Hampton Court, and not arrive till six o'clock ;
but at near two, as I sat watching for Heydues and
Pandours to come powdering down my avenue, I saw
a gang of foot passengers in boots and riding dresses
strolling from Twickenham, holiday folks as I thought,
— but at last one of the troop ran before, who, I
perceived, was the Venetian resident. I hurried down
to the gate, and the resident named the archduke and
madame — and Prince and Princess Albani, &c, in
short, they were eleven. Well ! they have been here
above an hour, were exceedingly civil, totally uncere
monious, commended everything, were really charmed
with the situation and views, especially the archduke ;
and Prince Albani, who does know, marked the right
pictures, and they all fell pell-mell on the biscuits and
bread and butter, but tasted nothing liquid. The
archduke is rather a little man, and if Mr. Hare were
to ask, as he did Garrick, whether he looked much
like an eagle, I could not say yes. The archduchess
is not a beauty, but better than I had heard, seems
sensible, and is very conversant in our history. I
had rummaged that old garret, my memory, for recol
lections of the month I passed at the Fair of Reggio,
with the archduchess's grandsire and grandam, the
Duke and Duchess of Modena, in the year of our Lord
1741. I had recalled the serene duke's figure, with a

272 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
mound of vermilion on the left side of his forehead
to symmetrise with a wen on the right, and his sister,
the Princess Benedict, who was painted and peeled
like an old summer-house, with bristles on her chin
sprouting through a coat of plaister, — but I did not
intend to draw these portraits ; and, above all things,
put a gag on my tongue, lest it should blurt out the
dreadful compliment I blundered on to the Duchess of
Modena on her own mother's jealousy of her. But I
had no occasion for my caution ; there was such a
babel of Italian dialects, and the archduke has such a
very sharp faussette, that my meek voice could not be
distinguished. Well ! it is happily over ; they ex
pressed satisfaction, and, at least, were better pleased
than with their no reception at Blenheim by the
Prince of Mindleheim.
This detail, which I might have given in fewer
words, and was not worth giving at all, may fill up a
chink in an evening after a whole morning's shooting.
P.S. — The Austrian ovation came to me from Pope's,
whence they had sent their coaches to the inn.

LETTER CCXCIII. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 13, 1786.
Far be it from me, madam, to think that you
ought to answer my letters incontinently. They very
seldom contain anything that requires or deserves a
reply. Your own last lay long before I wrote again.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 273
In fact, this only comes to ask if you did receive one
that I sent on Monday was se'nnight, directed to
Farming -Woods, where the time of year made me
conclude you were. If it lies there till this time
twelvemonth, it will not signify ; but I would not have
your ladyship think that I have been still more remiss
than I really have been. Though indolence would be
very excusable at my age, want of matter is oftener
the cause of my silence. Therefore when I have spun
three pages out of nothing, I like to have the merit of
the deed ; and as you will give me credit for the
assertion, your gamekeeper is welcome to light his
pipe with my epistle.

LETTER CCXCIV. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 4, 1786.
When I, in the heart of these populous villages,
can glean so little worth repeating, I do not wonder,
madam, that Farming- Woods are still less productive
— and without events and news, or business, what idle,
affected, and unnatural things, are letters ! I sent a
postscript after mine, because I thought, as did happen,
that the direction was wrong. Now I can only reply
to a few paragraphs, and return thanks for the cha
rades ; but easy or difficult, I have solved neither :
people without teeth can no more eat an apple than
crack a nut. I did guess at the more mysterious one,
and thought it might be a spelling-book, but that
solution is so awkward, that I think the enigma would
vol. n. t

274 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
not be worthy of Mr. Fitzpatrick. For Mrs. West's
verses, I do not think I shall tap them. The milk-
woman at Bristol, has made me sick of mendicant
poetesses. If deep distresses and poverty cannot sow
gratitude in the human heart, nor balance vanity and
jealousy, these slip-shod Muses must sing better than
they do, before I will lend an ear to them. Miss
Hannah More is the best of our numerous Calliopes ;
and her heart is worth all Pindus. Misses Seward and
Williams, and half-a-dozen more of those harmonious
virgins, have no imagination, no novelty. Their
thoughts and phrases are like their gown, old remnants
cut and turned.
Mr. Selwyn had a bad fever in Gloucestershire, but
is recovered and returned to Richmond. My good old
friend, Sir Horace, whom your ladyship is so kind as
to mention, was alive when the newspapers killed
him. I scarce dare affirm that he is so now, as his
excellent nephew, the younger Sir Horace, who posted
to him on hearing of his danger, gives me small
hopes of his lasting ; but why should I hope it ? He
suffers, is eighty-five, and perfectly resigned to his
fate! It is being very fickle to go out of the fashion when
the fashion adapts itself to me : yet except one day's
lameness, and constant chalky rills from my fingers, I
have had no gout this summer. If the Duchess of
Devonshire has, and retains the diadem of fashion still
(a long reign in so unstable a kingdom) I suppose the
ladies of her court will recall their chins, and thrust

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 275
out a shoe wadded with flannel. Then it will be an
easy transition to the Biquilh du Pdre Barnabas ! I
recommend the tune to Colonel Fitzpatrick.
Lord and Lady Waldegrave have been with me two
or three days, and to-day have sent me a confirmation
of several of Princess Amelie's legacies as you have
seen in the papers ; but thus particularly : —
To Ladies Elizabeth and Caroline Waldegrave, each
4000/. in money. This she told me, on Lady Walde-
grave's death, she intended, and so she did to this
lord. To the two brothers of the Landgrave of Hesse
20,000/. a piece, and they are to be residuary
legatees. To Lady Anne Howard, 5000/. To Lady Barry-
more, 3000/. To Lady Templetown, 2000/. stock.
To Lady Anne Noel the interest of 5000/. for life.
Small legacies to all her servants. To her executors,
Lords Besborough and Pelham, 1000/. stock. The
jewels to the Duchess of Brunswick.
Gunnersbury and her house in town to be sold.
Lord Besborough not being well enough, and Lord
Pelham not in town, Lord Duncannon went to the
king to know if he chose to be present at the reading
of the will, which he declined ; but has since sent Lord
Sydney to one of the ladies of the bedchamber to ask
if previous to her death she had expressed any wishes
not inserted in her will, and to say he would fulfil
whatever had been her desire. The princess is to be
buried this day se'nnight at the king's expense, and
the mourning to commence the next day.
t2

276 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
The will seems to me a proper and a kind one ; and
surely neither her life nor death deserved the infamous
abuse of the newspapers, which is as false as the exag
geration of her wealth. History, I believe, seldom
contains much truth ; but should our daily lying chro
nicles exist and be consulted, the annals of these days
will deserve as little credit as the " Arabian Nights."

LETTER CCXCV. Strawberry Hill, Dee. 1, 1786.
Oh ! yes, madam, I am ready to continue playing
at questions and commands, if you please, since you
are content with such answers as I, simple man, can
send you. I have no character to sustain, and don't
care a straw how silly my letters are, if you find they
fill up some of your idle moments. I am sure I have
nothing better to do, and it was for your sake that I
proposed passing eldest.
No, I am not at all struck with the letter of Beau
marchais, except with its insolence. Such a reproof
might become Cato the Censor, in defence of such a
tragedy as Addison's, on his descendant : but for
such a vaurien as Beaumarchais, and for such a con
temptible farce as " Figaro," it was paramount im
pertinence towards the duke, and gross ill-breeding
towards the ladies. Besides, I abhor vanity in
authors ; it would offend in Milton or Montesquieu ;
in a Jack-pudding it is intolerable. I know no trait

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 277
of arrogance recorded of Moliere---and to talk of the
" Marriage of Figaro " as instructive ! Punch might
as well pretend to be moralizing when he sells a
bargain. In general, the modern Gens de Lettres in
France, as they call themselves, are complete puppies.
They have beaten up their native pertness with the
brutality of the ancient philosophers, and would erect
themselves into a Tribunal of Dictators : they lay
down laws impertinently, and employ affronts and
insults as penalties. The literati, on the revival of
learning, were less intolerable, for they only threw
dirt, and called names in coarse Latin, which nobody
but a Roman scavenger could have understood. The
present fry are saucy, and quaint, and distorted, and
void of all simplicity. What a forced affected phrase
is begueules mitig^es 1
The history of Lactilla of Bristol is worse ; she
is a begueule not mitigee. Her ingratitude to Miss
More has been superlative. The latter laboured un-
weariedly to collect subscriptions for her, and was
at expense herself for the publication ; and lest the
husband, who is a dolt, should waste the sum col
lected, placed it out at interest for her as trustee,
besides having washed and combed her trumpery
verses, and taught them to dance in tune. The
foolish woman's head, turned with this change of
fortune and applause, and concluding that her talent,
which was only wonderful from her sphere and state
of ignorance, was marvellous genius, she grew enraged
at Miss More for presuming to prune her wild shoots,

278 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
and, in her passion, accused her benevolent and bene
ficent friend of defrauding her of part of the collected
charity. In short, she has abused Miss More grossly,
has written a volume of scurrility against her, and is
really to be pitied, as she is grown extravagant and
ostentatious. Am I in the wrong, madam, for thinking
that these parish Sapphos had better be bound 'pren
tices to mantua-makers, than be appointed chamber
maids to Mesdemoiselles the Muses ?
I am sorry the knight of the brush has also now
and then some human delinquencies — but alas ! every
body has a heel or a finger not dipped in Styx — or
rather, I think we should say, that has been dipped
in Styx. I went t'other day, when I was in town, to
see the Sacraments of Poussin that he has purchased
from Rome for the Duke of Rutland. I remember
when I saw them there, a thousand years ago, that I
was not much enchanted ; I rather like them better
now than I expected, at least two or three of them —
but they are really only coloured bas-reliefs, and old
Romans don't make good Christians. There are two
of Baptism ; Sir Joshua said, what could he mean
by painting two ? I said, I concluded the second was
Anabaptism. Sir Joshua himself has bought a profile
of Oliver Cromwell, which he thinks the finest minia
ture by Cooper he ever saw. But all his own geese are
swans, as the swans of others are geese. It is most
clearly a copy, and not a very good one ; the outline
very hard, the hair and armour very flat and tame.
He would not shew me his Russian Hercules. I fancy

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 279
he has discovered that he was too sanguine about the
commission, as you say.
The town was ringing about your old neighbour
of the north, Countess Strathmore, and the enormous
barbarities of her husband, who beat her for six days
and nights Round Stainmore's wintry wild,
for which the myrmidons of the King's Bench have
knocked his brains out — almost. This, and Lady
Cathcart's long imprisonment, ought to make wealthy
widows a little cautious of M'Philanders — but the
Lord knows whether it will.
Lord Chewton is perfectly well. He was here lately
with his parents. Soon after my neighbour, Sir Robert
Goodere, made me a visit, and said he had been a
little doubtful whether he might come, as he heard the
Princess Elizabeth was come to Strawberry Hill for
the air. Heavens ! Sir Robert ! what can you mean ?
Princess Elizabeth with me ? you must dream, or
imagine that Princess Elizabeth Lutterel is with me.
At last I found out that he had seen Lord Walde-
grave's servants in the queen's livery here, and the
rest was the product of his own reasoning upon that
phenomenon. Such is the birth of half the stories
circulated — and had he communicated his conjecture
to the village before I set him right, in three days
that vision would have been in the newspapers.
I went yesterday to see the Duke of Queensberry's
palace at Richmond, under the conduct of George
Selwyn, the concierge. You cannot imagine how

280 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
noble it looks now all the Cornbury pictures from
Amesbury are hung up there. The great hall, the
great gallery, the eating-room, and the corridor, are
covered with whole and half lengths of royal family,
favourites, ministers, peers, and judges, of the reign
of Charles I. — not one an original, I think, at least not
one fine, yet altogether they look very respectable; and
the house is so handsome, and the views so rich, and
the day was so fine, that I could only have been more
pleased if (for half an hour) I could have seen the real
palace that once stood on that spot, and the persons
represented walking about ! — A visionary holiday in old
age, though it has not the rapture of youth, is a
sedate enjoyment that is more sensible because one
attends to it and reflects upon it at the time ; and
as new tumults do not succeed, the taste remains long
in one's memory's mouth.
P. S. — I was told t'other night that Lady Cathcart,
who is still living, danced lately at Hertford, to shew
her vigour at past four score — ware an Abbe* de
Gedoyn ! She would risk another incarceration ; — it
is woful to have a colt's tooth when folks have no
other left !

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 281

LETTER CCXCVI. Berkeley Square, Dec. 12, 1786.
I pretend to neither judgment nor taste, madam,
and I am sure I am in the wrong when I dislike what
Lady Ravensworth, Lord Ossory, and Mr. Fitzpatrick,
approve : and yet, instead of condemning contrary to
my opinion, I rather doubt whether your ladyship
does not commend more than you think the letter
deserves, for your unalterable good humour makes
you always set everything in the best light possible.
Modified brimstones, I own, did sound to me too harsh
an expression to be used of women of quality, in a
country that piques itself on being the standard of
good breeding ; but one every day learns to correct
one's original ideas, which are generally the fruits of
ignorance. I imagined that the ladies scarce gave as
a reason for asking for Beaumarchais's box, that they
supposed his play was indecent — at least I know that
that is not the object of loges grilUes, nor could be for
this plain reason, that the French stage does not allow
of indecencies. Des loges grillees, I believe, are for the
purpose of going undressed, and are used at all the
chastest old plays : I know I have been in one at a
tragedy with Mesdames de Luxembourg and Du Def
fand ; and therefore I was naturally enough led into
the mistake of thinking that Beaumarchais had given
himself an impertinent air on a very common oc
casion. If his farce was reckoned indelicate, it was

282 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
he that had offended the custom, not the ladies —
mais peut-itre qu'on a change tout cela; and the
austere Beaumarchais, like stern Lycurgus, may insist
on ladies descending stark naked into the arena, and
wrestling with Gladiators, to shew that genuine modesty
does not wear a mask.
When I have said thus much, I know how much I
am guided by prejudices : I have an aversion to the
dictatorial pertness of the modern French authors, and
cannot conceive that their very flimsy talents can
entitle them to an importance that would mis-become
Racine himself. In truth, except for such a pre
dominant genius as Shakspeare or Milton, I hold
authors cheap enough : what merit is there in pains,
and study, and application, compared with the extem
pore abilities of such men as Mr. Fox, Mr. Sheridan,
or Mr. Pitt ? What puerile matters are the orations of
Cicero, composed, corrected, and re-written at fifty or
sixty years of age, in comparison of what start and
flow and overflow from our prodigies, the moment they
are men ? It is from being so proud of my country
men that I betrayed so much contempt of the frogs of
the French Hippocrene, and I hope I have a little
disculpated myself for the disrespect I shewed to what
your ladyship liked, and was so good as to send me.
I came to town the middle of last week, to quit the
damps that made me much out of order, but the
smoke of London soon recovered me. I dined with
the Duchess of Bedford on Sunday, as she was to have
no company but the two Misses Pelham, Miss Lloyd,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 283
and Admiral Pigot ; yet though three Misses sound
very young, your ladyship is sensible it was not a
very callow party. I shall be more juvenile to-night,
for I am going to Mrs. Cowley's new play, which I
suppose is as instructive as the " Marriage of Figaro,"
for I am told it approaches to those of Mrs. Behn in
Spartan delicacy ; but I shall see Miss Farren, who, in
my poor opinion, is the first of all actresses.
Of news I have not heard a tittle since I arrived.
To give them their due, the houses in London are of
themselves as quiet, good sort of houses as any in the
universe, and it is only when they are brimful that
they produce so many strange scenes every day.

LETTER CCXCVII. Berkeley Square, Dec. 15, 1786.
Instead of being too prolix, I think you are very
condescending, madam, to enter into my cavils and
discuss them with me ; but you are not so gracious
when you suspect my douceurs of irony, which would
reduce me to weigh my words, and then I should have
no satisfaction in chatting with you. I set down the
first thing that comes into my head, foolish or not ; for
instance, the moment I had written the last paragraph
of my last, I knew it was silly, but I could not take
the trouble of writing my letter again ; and, in truth,
I have a little partiality for nonsense. We are so
much in the dark about most things, that when we

284 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
attempt to reason, we often fall into great absurdities ;
but giving the reins to nonsense, it is heads or tails
whether we do not light upon sense.
Antigallican I was literally, when I found fault
with Beaumarchais's epistle, but not politically so, God
knows, nor in a fury. At past sixty-nine my tow and
tinder are pretty well ^exhausted, and I should be
ashamed to go out of the world in a fury about any
thing. About the commercial treaty it is impossible
I should be in one, for it is most strictly true that I
have not read a single article, and for this plain reason,
that I should not understand a syllable of it. I under
stand trade no more than I do Coptic, and being much
disposed to amuse myself for the little time I have left,
I waste none of it on what I do not comprehend.
Many years ago a person, who was never sorry to tell
me my truths, said to me, " You understand several
out of the way things, but you know nothing that is
common or useful." This was true, then, and alas ! is
so to this hour, and will continue so for a few more ;
and, therefore, good or bad, the commercial treaty
could have no share in my censure of the letter, nor
will occasion a wrinkle on the surface of my thoughts.
All I can say on the subject is, that the treaty being
good, he must be a bad Whig that is angry at it, let
who will have made it.
I know nothing of the milkwoman's new edition,
and certainly shall not send for it. When people dis
appoint me and prove very worthless, I have done
with them, and suppose they don't exist.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 285
" The Greybeards " have certainly been chastised, for
we did not find them at all gross. The piece is farcical
and improbable, but has some good things, and is ad
mirably acted. " Coeur de Lion " did not answer ; nor
was I much charmed with the music ; but my ear is too
bad to judge at first hearing. The scenes are excel
lent ; Mrs. Jordan is quite out of her character, and
makes nothing of the part ; and the turning the fero
cious Richard into a tender husband is intolerable.
If an historic subject is good but wants alteration,
why will not an author take the canvas, cut it to his
mind, but give new names to the personages ? It only
makes a confusion in one's ideas, to maim a known
story. You guessed rightly, madam : I certainly should
have been distracted to have risked my letters to Sir
Horace being printed. Though I could not write very
freely through the gutters of so many post-offices, I
did not desire Europe should see what I thought of its
sovereigns, who were chiefly our dramatis personal.
Sir Horace the nephew brought away my letters at dif
ferent times ; and as he was there at his dear uncle's
death he will secure the rest, which are not a dozen.
For the new edition of Shakspeare, it did not at
all captivate me. In the first place I did not sub
scribe for my heirs and executors as it would have
been, when the term of completion is twelve years
hence ; but I am not favourable to sets of prints for
authors. I scarce know above one well executed " Coy-
pell's Don Quixote," but mercy on us ! Our painters

286 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
to design for Shakspeare ! His commentators have
not been more inadequate. Pray, who is to give an
idea of Falstaff now Quin is dead ? And then Barto-
lozzi, who is only fit to engrave for the " Pastor fido,"
will be to give a pretty enamelled fan-mount of Mac
beth ! Salvator Rosa might, and Piranesi might dash
out Duncan's Castle ; but Lord help Alderman Boydell
and the Royal Academy !
Lord Macartney I have seen twice; he is quite
well ; I was at Lady Macartney's last night : I told
them of your ladyship's inquiries. They have got a
charming house in Curzon Street, and cheap as old
clothes. It was Lord Carteret's, and all antiqued and
grotesqued by Adam, with an additional room in the
court fourscore feet long, then dedicated to orgies and
now to books.
Thus I have answered all your ladyship's questions
tant bien que mat ; and now after telling you a short
story, will take my leave.
Lady Louvain wished to see Mademoiselle Deon
and Mr. Dutens invited her. The lady asked her if
she had ever been at Dijon, and said she herself had
lain in there. I have been there, said Miss Hector,
but did not lye in there, car je suis vierge, et pour que
les vierges accouchent, il faut qu'elles aillent d Jeru
salem. It was impertinent to Lady Louvain, and
worse in a clergyman's house ; but women of fashion
should not go aboard Amazons.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 287

LETTER CCXCVIII. Berkeley Square, Dec. 22, 1786.
Your ladyship is so apt to refine, that give me
leave to say, your penetration sometimes a little over
shoots itself. You tell me that Lord Ossory says
you must believe that I have not read the commercial
treaty, which rather implies that you were not so
disposed. Now I do not see what credit was to result
to me from not having read it. Most people would
think that I ought to have examined a matter of
national importance ; and few men perhaps would
have owned so frankly, that my reason for not reading
it was that I could not understand it. Yet so the
whole fact was ; and though I think it less despicable
to affect ignorance than to pretend to know what one
does not, there was not a grain of affectation or un
truth in the case. I have lived too long not to despise
art which is the filigraine of a little mind ; and were
I to grow cunning now, I should probably be under
ground before my finesse could achieve any tour of
legerdemain. Had you been content with less shrewdness, madam,
you would not have slid into another error ; you saw
that I had first written family for academy, as was
very plain I had — and then you concluded that I had
substituted the latter word out of prudence, for it
seems that in your ladyship's eyes I am grown all on a
sudden a miracle of circumspection. But had you

288 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
considered a moment you would have seen that it was
impossible I could ever have meant to write family,
and that my pen, by inattention, must have written
royal family, from the greater familiarity of the
phrase ; for, I beseech you, are the royal family to
design the prints for Shakspeare ? With all my
respect for nonsense, I never mean to write one word
for another which would not be to be foolish but
drunk ; and I must have swallowed two bottles before
I could lament that the royal family were incapable of
giving a just drawing of Macbeth. I might as well
have said that I did not read the treaty because Mrs.
Siddons had negotiated it.
You will perhaps, madam, discover some close policy,
when I tell you that I have not even seen the new
volume of " Lord Clarendon's Papers ; " yet it is what
I must say, if I answer you with truth. Nay, I even
never did look into the former volume. I was tired of
those times before they appeared. I had read and
written as much as I chose about my Lord Clarendon,
and did not care to return to the subject. Mere per
sonal amusement is all I seek now, and I would sooner
return to Mother Goose's Tales than to the gravity of
the former century. Gout, and pain, and confinement,
have made me hate everything serious, and I try to
paint all my thoughts couleur de rose, which is my
philosophy. I am not surprised that there should be a great
party for the milkwoman. The wise people of Bristol
have taken it into their heads that they have a manu-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 289
facture of original genius chez eux, and the less founda
tion they have for their credulity, the stronger their
faith is,, as always is the case of fools. Great was the
Diana of the Ephesians, though they made the image
themselves. If Lactilla puts gin into her milk and kills
herself, she will be immortal, and Mr. Hayley and Mr.
Cumberland will write hymns to her — with all my heart.
Lady Anne's good sense and just observations are
not only doubly hereditary, but the consequence of
the very rational education you give her, madam.
Truth is natural to youth, and I believe would pro
duce a good portion of sense too, if they did not hear
and see so much falsehood, as they find by degrees, in
the commerce of the world ; and which they receive
with respect, because it comes from elder persons, who
they conclude act rightly. People are afraid of trust
ing the indiscretion of their children and do not tell
them, such a gentleman is a rascal, such an one a fool
— nay, I can recollect having believed that several
persons were sensible, because I heard others say they
were so ; and I had not then learnt to ask silently the
leading question, — " How do you know whether they
are sensible or not ? " Lady Anne seems to do so
already, and, therefore, will not easily be a dupe.
Commonly we have not a stock of experience, till it is
of little or no use. We want it most when we are
coming into the world. Sages, who are proud of it
when they do not want it, are sometimes so generous
as to bequeath their hoard to posterity— and posterity
value it no more than a mourning ring.
vol. n. u

290 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
I have lost another old acquaintance, Lady Beau-
lieu. As there are not above half a dozen persons left
now who were on the stage to my knowledge when I
became a spectator, I should be weak indeed if I inter
ested myself much in what happens on a theatre where
the principal actors are twenty, thirty, or forty years
younger than I am. My old remembrancer, the gout,
who never lets me forget myself long, is come, since I
wrote the former part of this last night, into my left
hand, and I must suspend my manoeuvres, I suppose,
for some weeks, for he seldom makes his visits superfi
cially, so I can only be a visiUe; and the weather is so
sharp that I am not sorry to remain in my own chim
ney corner.

LETTER CCXCIX. Berkeley Square, Jan. 9, 1787.
The post is come in so late (past three) and I am
forced to dine so early, madam, that I could say but a
few words, were I able ; but I have been out, leaving
my name, by way of airing, at doors of how d'yes, and
it tired me so much, that I was forced to leave half
upon my conscience and come home to rest till another
day. However, I am recovered of my gout, have been
abroad three evenings, and wish myself much joy of
far the shortest fit I have had these twenty years (only
for a fortnight), so that if I live another century, I
may hope to have worn out the mines of chalk,, and to
be very healthy and robust too.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 291
I must not only thank your ladyship for your most
obliging inquiry, but for your great condescension in
making most unnecessary apologies. It was indeed my
head was hurt at a soupcon of untruth, not my heart,
which can only be answerable to itself; but on the
verge of seventy I should be liable to the imputation
of dotage if I were grown either affected or artful —
what ! make the undertaker laugh at me !
I am charmed with your theatre, and only wish I
could be a spectator. I extremely approve your good
humour in dancing and acting, for I should hate
gravity, dignity, or austerity in one's own house in the
country. Who had not rather see Scipio playing at
leap-frog with his . children at his Ampthill, than
parading to St. Paul's to sing " Te Deum ? " Would
to the Muses too, that I were capable of being your
poet epilogate ; not that I would if I could, when you
have the best epilogue as well as prologue-maker in the
whole county of Parnassus at your elbow. How the
deuce, madam, should I fifty years ago have been able
to write an. epilogue worthy of waiting on a prologue
of Mr. Fitzpatrick ? I am foolhardy enough, when I
send you a dab of prose, and yet I would not venture
that, if it were not a curiosity, that is, almost a true
novel ; at least, I have not, as you will find, attempted
to add one romantic circumstance, rather the contrary.
The little French ditty, said to be written by an English
earl, I am sure will please you for its tender simplicity.
I have printed but forty copies, and merely for
presents, which I only mention from my ambition that
u 2

292 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Lord Ossory may have a complete set of my editions ;
and, as I have appropriated all the rest, I shall not
have another copy but my own left.
I must finish for every reason, as per above, and
am, the most obedient servant of the whole dramatis
personal.

LETTER CCC.
Strawberry Hill, Jan. 21, 1787.
Your ladyship's letter followed me hither, and I
give you many thanks for complying with my suit for
the epilogue, which was very proper for the occasion,
simple and unaffected. In fact, those overtures and
adieus are very difficult, especially when the pieces are
not new ; nor can I in general approve them. If a
prologue, like the contents prefixed to cantos of a
poem, opens the plot, it anticipates it. If it does not,
why is it there ? An epilogue is essentially as useless :
will people have liked a play, if they have not liked it ?
though the poet begs they will have done so, or thanks
them though they have not ? Dryden talked politics
or controversy, or of anything passing in town, in his
preface and postfaces. Addison and classic authors
talked of Sophocles and Euripides — in their prologues
and in their epilogues, as if the whole audience were
to sup at the Rose Tavern. Garrick's essays were
J ike medley overtures, drew characters of different
classes, which diverted the pit and galleries, answered
his purpose, shewed his mimicry, and will not do with-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 293
out it. In short, prologues seem never to have been
necessary but to Shakspeare, whose plays, often com
prehending half a century and half Europe, it was
impossible for the spectators to conceive at once, from
the mere shifting of the decoration (or from not shift
ing it, as was a little the case in his time), that the
actors were one moment in the street at Venice, and
the next in a bedchamber in Cyprus. But I did not
mean to write a dissertation, and shall leave the prac
tice to the will of the world, to be continued or
omitted as it pleases ; which I believe is the wisest way
in most things, when one's opinion does not sail with
the current. I dip so little in that tide, that I did not
know of Mr. Craufurd's new passion : I have seen him
but once these six weeks.
Lord Waldegrave has taken, for six months, the
ready furnished house in Dover Street, over against
Lord Ashburnham's, which is very agreeable to me,
as being so near me. I saw them on the eve of the
birthday. Lord Carmarthen's dinner answered the expectation
of nobody ; except Mr. Fox, General Conway, and Lord
Macartney, I think there was nobody but foreign min
isters. Though his list of invitations was as promis
cuous as the company that Noah carried into the ark,
the pairs were not quite so well sorted. The Mar
quis and Earl of Buckingham would not have been a
very loving couple. In truth, I thought the whole
congregation, had it met, would have been so distressed
and awkward, that it would have been like a dinner

294 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
that the late Duke of Montagu made at Bath, of all the
people he could find there that stuttered. The three
that did go, were the fittest in the world for a hetero
geneous mixture ; Mr. Fox and Lord Macartney are
easy with anybody ; and Mr. Conway never knows
with whom he is, nor perceives there is anything politi
cal or uncouth amongst any set of people. He had
forgotten the dinner the next day, till I asked him
about it.
Are not you sorry, madam, that the King of Prus
sia's bigamy is not true ? It diverted me exceedingly ;
it would have been quite new to have three queens at
once — one that is not his wife, one that is, and one
that cannot be. I fear, too, that the Prince of Anhalt
is not so complete a courtier as was reported ; it was
said that, in compliment to his sovereign, he had
doubled his matrimony too. Kings should strike novel
strokes : they can give a fillip to the world, and turn
it out of its old humdrum ways. Nobody minds in
dividuals ; the Duchess of Kingston and Mr. Madan
aimed in vain at introducing polygamy ; but when
Solomon countenanced it, the Queen of Sheba went
to admire his wisdom ; and I dare to say at her
return had as many husbands as his Hebrew ma
jesty had wives ; she never went so far on mere spe
culation.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 295

LETTER CCCI. Berkeley Square, Feb. 1, 1787.
Though you announced Lord Ossory, madam, I
did not expect to see him so soon as the next day,
when he was so good as to call on me. His appearance
prevented my immediate reply, as he can now shoot
news flying, and I only gather up a few scattered
feathers ; and at present have not picked up one pen
feather, nor should write but to explain the ballad you
wot of, and which I never saw in its own person, though
I know its birth and parentage, ay, its father and
mother. It was written by the late Lord Melcombe, on a
Mrs. Strawbridge, whom I knew, and who was still a very
handsome black woman ; she lived at the corner house
going to Saville Row, over against the late Duke of
Grafton's. The lord, then Mr. Doddington, fancied
himself in love with her, and one day obtained an
assignation. He found her lying on a couch. But,
whether he had not expected so kind a reception, or
was not so impatient to precipitate the conclusion of
the romance, he kneeled down, and seizing her hand,
cried, "Oh! that I had you but in a wood !" — "In a
wood," cried the astonished Statira ; " what would you
do? rob me?" However, then, or afterwards, that
interlude produced an arrangement, and he gave her a
bond of ten thousand pounds to be paid if he married
any body else. He did marry Mrs. Behan, with whom

296 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
he could not own his marriage till Mrs. Strawbridge
died. As I cannot precisely ascertain the date of the bal
lad, I am not sure that Mrs. Masham. was the famous
Lady Masham, though perhaps it was, as, by the men
tion of the kitcats, it was probably written in Queen
Anne's time, when her Majesty's favour might have
stamped that gentlewoman for a beauty. The little
Whig was most certainly the beautiful Lady Sunder
land, the Duke of Marlborough's daughter. There
never was but one Duchess of Shrewsbury, the Italian,
mentioned in Lady Mary Wortley's first pastoral ; and
there never was a Duke of Beaufort that made it worth
knowing which duke it was. Who the witty Sir Harry
was, it is impossible to guess now : it might be the
wittiest Sir Harry then alive, or the foolishest — for the
expression rather seems ironic.
The pamphlet I have read, madam ; but cannot tell
you what would have been my opinion of it, because
my opinion was influenced before I saw it. A lady-
politician ordered me to read it and to admire it, as
the chef d'oeuvre of truth, eloquence, wit, argument,
and impartiality ; and she assured me that the
reasonings in it were unanswerable. I believe she
meant the assertions, for I know she uses those words
as synonymous. I promised to obey her, as I am sure
that ladies understand politics better than I do, and
I hold it as a rule of faith —
J " That all that they admire is sweet,
And all is sense that they repeat."

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 297
How much ready wit they have ! I can give you an
instance, madam, that I heard last night. After the
late execution of the eighteen malefactors, a female was
hawking an account of them, but called them nineteen.
A gentleman said to her, " Why do you say nineteen ?
there were but eighteen hanged." She replied, " Sir, I
did not know you had been reprieved."
The letters of Henry VI.'s reign, &c, are come out,
and to me make all other letters not worth reading. I
have gone through above one volume, and cannot bear
to be writing when I am so eager to be reading. There
is one of Sir John Falstaff, in which he leaves his ene
mies to White Beard or Black Beard, that is, says he,
to God or the Devil.
There are letters from all my acquaintance, Lord
Rivers, Lord Hastings, the Earl of Warwick, whom I
remember still better than Mrs. Strawbridge, though
she died within these fifty years. What antiquary
would be answering a letter from a living countess,
when he may read one from Eleanor Mowbray,
Duchess of Norfolk.

LETTER CCCII. Berkeley Square, Feb. 9, 1787.
Though I sigh for your ladyship's coming to town,
I do not know whether I shall not be a loser, for what
news don't you send me ? That Lord Salisbury is a
poet is nothing to your intelligence that I am going to

298 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
turn player ; nay, perhaps I should, if I were not too
young for the company ! — You tell me, too, that I snub
and sneer ; I protest, I thought I was the snubee.
For " The Way to Keep Him" I did not imagine it
would come to anything, and so it has proved. How
ever, I was enjoined secrecy, and, though I knew it
could not remain a secret, I did not choose to be the
reporter : I should have been a very premature one,
for the dramatis person® were not filled by two or
three ; one of the principal actresses has already
declined — and there is an end of it.
For sneering, Lord help me ! I was as guiltless ;
every day I meet with red hot politicians in petticoats,
and told your ladyship how I had been schooled by one
of them, and how docile I was. If you yourself have
any zeal for making converts, I should be very ready
to be a proselyte, if I could get any thing by it. It is
very creditable, honourable, and fashionable ; but,
alas ! I am so insignificant that I fear nobody would
buy me ; and one should look sillily to put one's self
up to sale and not find a purchaser. In short, I doubt
I shall never make my fortune by turning courtier or
comedian ; and therefore I may as well adhere to my
old principles, as I have always done, since you your
self, madam, would not be flattered in a convert that
nobody would take off your hands. If you could bring
over Mr. Sheridan, he would do something : he talked
for five hours and a-half on Wednesday, and turned
every body's head. One heard everybody in the streets
raving on the wonders of that speech ; for my part, I

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 299
cannot believe it was so supernatural as they say — do
you believe it was, madam ? I will go to my oracle,
who told me of the marvels of the pamphlet, which
assures us that Mr. Hastings is a prodigy of virtue and
abilities ; and, as you think so, too, how should such
a fellow as Sheridan, who has no diamonds to bestow,
fascinate all the world ? — Yet witchcraft, no doubt,
there has been, for when did simple eloquence ever
convince a majority ? Mr. Pitt and 174 other persons
found Mr. Hastings guilty last night, and only sixty-
eight remained thinking with the pamphlet and your
ladyship, that he is as white as snow. Well, at least
there is a new crime, sorcery, to charge on the oppo
sition ! and, till they are cleared of that charge, I will
never say a word in their favour nor think on politics
more^ which I would not have mentioned but in answer
to your ladyship's questions ; and therefore I hope we
shall drop the subject and meet soon in Grosvenor
Place in a perfect neutrality of good humour.

LETTER CCCIII. Strawberry Hill, June 14, 1787.
Though your ladyship gave me law (a very proper
synonyme for delay), I should have answered your
letter incontinently, but I have had what is called
a blight in one of my eyes, and for some days was
forced to lie fallow, neither reading nor writing a line ;
which is a little uncomfortable when quite alone. I

300 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE.
do begin to creep about my house, but have not
recovered my feet enough to compass the whole circuit
of my garden. Monday last was pleasant, and Tuesday
very warm, but we are relapsed into our east-windhood,
which has reigned ever since I have been here for this
green winter, which, I presume, is the highest title due
to this season, which in southern climes is positive
summer, a name imported by our travellers, with
grapes, peaches, and tuberoses ; but, as we cannot
build hothouses for our whole latitude, our summers
seldom come to maturity. However, most of my
senses have enjoyed themselves — my sight with ver
dure, my smell by millions of honeysuckles, my hearing
by nightingales, and my feeling with good fires ; tole
rable luxury for an old cavalier in the north of Europe !
Semiramis of Russia is not of my taste, or she would
not travel half round the arctic circle ; unless she
means to conquer the Turks, and transfer the seat
of her empire to Constantinople, like its founder.
The ghost of Irene will be mighty glad to see her
there ; though a little surprised that the grand duke,
her son, is still alive. I hear she has carried her
grandchildren with her as hostages ; or she might be
dethroned, and not hear of it for three months.
The Duke and Duchess of Buccleugh, they say, came
through Holland, and going to visit a chief burgher,
found cannon planted before his door — and did not stay
to leave a card. How Lord George Gordon must long
to be there and burn a street or two !
Most of Mr. Cunningham's anecdotes, to be sure, are

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 301
not new at present, madam, but they would have been
so twenty years ago, and at least confirm much of
what has come out recently. Some, I doubt, have
been castrated ; indeed, I have heard so, nay, am sure,
for in one paragraph a siege or town is mentioned,
and refers to the preceding paragraph, in which not
a syllable of it is said ; clumsy enough.
I am very far from tired, madam, of encomiums on
the performance at Richmond House, but I, by no
means, agree with the criticism on it that you quote,
and which, I conclude, was written by some player,
from envy. Who should act genteel comedy perfectly,
but people of fashion that have sense ? Actors and
actresses can only guess at the tone of high life, and
cannot be inspired with it. Why are there so few
genteel comedies, but because most comedies are
written by men not of that sphere ? Etheridge, Con-
greve, Vanbrugh, and Cibber, wrote genteel comedy,
because they lived in the best company, and Mrs.
Oldfield played it so well, because she not only fol
lowed, but often set, the fashion. General Burgoyne
has written the best modern comedy, for the same
reason ; and Miss Farren is as excellent as Mrs. Old-
field, because she has lived with the best style of men
in England ; whereas Mrs. Abington can never go
beyond Lady Teazle, which is a second-rate character,
and that rank of women are always aping women of
fashion, without arriving at the style. Farquhar's
plays talk the language of a marching regiment in
country quarters ; Wycherley, Dryden, Mrs. Centlivre,

302 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
&c, wrote as if they had only lived in the "Rose
Tavern ;" but then the Court lived in Drury-lane, too,
and Lady Dorchester and Nel Gwyn were equally good
company. The Richmond theatre, "I imagine, will take
root. I supped with the duke at Mrs. Damer's, the
night before I left London, and they were talking of
improvements on the local, as the French would say.
A propos, Mrs Damer has given me her eagle, which
I call the spoilt child of my antique one, it is in such
a passion. I hope your ladyship will approve of the
motto I design for it. Do you remember the statue at
Milan, with this legend : —
" Non me Praxiteles, sed Marcus finxit Agrati !"
Mine is to be this pentameter : —
Non me Praxiteles finxit, at Anna Damer.
I left Lady Waldegrave in town, not quite well,
though I never saw her better than when she arrived,
and her complaints, I believe, are merely the con
sequence of her situation. I asked her little girl whe
ther she had a Waldegrave or a Walpole temper, but in
more intelligible phrase to her, a gentle or a violent
one ? She replied, "A middling one." Friday night 15th.
To-day has contradicted all I wrote last night. The
Cadogans and Churchills have dined with me, and the
south wind came to meet them, and we drank tea out
of doors, and sat there till half an hour after eight,
Strawberry never looking in greater beauty. Mr.
Previs, the Jew, came with them, of whom Lord Ca-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 303
dogan is as fond as the prince. Lord Hertford is to
give his royal highness a ball on Monday, to which I
am asked ; but I have sent my excuse : dancing and
the next reign are not in unison with seventy and
limping. Lady Pembroke is to bring the Princess
Lubomirski hither to-morrow to breakfast, which I can
not avoid ; but I will not begin the chapter of griev
ances on the people that come to see my house. I
should be as tiresome to your ladyship, as they are to
me ; yet you do deserve a little chastisement. What a
string of lofty words have you applied to a poor old
creature who never was entitled to one of them ! Ho
nour ! value ! admiration ! — for what ! of what ! — mercy
on me ! I look into my heart, I look into my head,
and find nothing in either that does not make me
blush, and reject, thoroughly mortified, such unmerited
compliments. Honour and value Mr. Howard, madam ;
admire Mr. Sheridan ; but scatter no flowers on a ske
leton who is hasting to the land of oblivion, and may
be well content if his faults, accompany him thither !

LETTER CCCIV.
Strawberry Hill, June 28, 1787.
I beg your ladyship to forgive my asking you what
will sound like an impertinent question : it is, whether
you received an answer from me dated the 16th, to one
I had the honour of receiving from you a day or two
before? My reason for asking it is, that a letter I

304 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
wrote on business by the same post did actually mis
carry, and has given me some trouble. We have no
posthouse at Twickenham, but a boy from Isleworth
fetches them, and I suppose sometimes twists them to
the tail of a paper-kite. If he made that use of my
last to your ladyship, perhaps you will have thought
that as you gave me holidays, and told me I need not
write soon, I have been flying a kite too ; but my
second childhood does not enable me to gambol ; and if
it did, you are one of the last persons from whom I
would play truant.
I have been sending some layers of clove-carnations
to Lady Ravensworth, for which Lady Euston wrote to
me. I had not so many as I wished, the severe weather
of last year having killed most of mine ; and my gar
dener is so bad, that he does not restock me soon. I
offered him an annuity some years ago, if he would
leave me ; but he desired to be excused, as it was not
so good as his place, and he knew nobody else would
take him ; so I have been forced to keep him, because
nobody else will.
As this is only a codicil to the letter I doubt you
never received, madam, it shall not be longer.

LETTER CCCV.

Strawberry Hill, Sept. 6, 1787.
I will not make a feigned excuse, madam, nor
catch at the pretence you kindly offer me of a lost

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 305
letter ; no, I confess honestly that I knew I owed you
one, but was too conscientious to pay my just debts
with the base currency of Richmond and Hampton
Court, and I have no other specie. I know nothing, do
nothing, but repeat the same insipid round that I have
passed for so many summers, if summer this has been
to be called. The dowagers of my Canton pick up and
dress up tales of what is done in London and at various
watering places ; but I hold it a prudery becoming old
men, (the reverse of that of old women,) not to trouble
myself about or censure the frolics of the young ; and
for my contemporaries, so few of them are left, that un
less by living to the age of Old Parr or Jenkins, we are
not likely to commit anything remarkable. I have seen
none of the French, Savoyard, or Lorraine princes and
princesses, sterling or pinchbeck : I broke off my com
mercial treaty with France, when I was robbed of half
Mad. du Deffand's papers, and care no more for their
bonne compagnie, than for their convicts Monsieur de
Calonne and Madame de la Motte.
Under such a negative existence, what could I write,
madam ? I have heard nothing for these two months
worth telling you but this little story. There lives at
Kingston a Mrs. Barnard, a very wealthy hen- Quaker.
She has a passion for beautiful black and white cows,
never parts with a pretty calf, and consequently has
now a hecatomb as striped and spotted as leopards and
tigers. The Queen happened to see this ermined drove,
and being struck with the beauty of their robes, sent a
page to desire to purchase one. Mrs. Barnard replied,
VOL. II. x

306 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
she never sold cows, but would lend her Majesty her
bull with all her heart. A propos to Court, it is not a
recent story I believe, but did you ever hear, madam,
that Mrs. Herbert, the bedchamber-woman, going in
a hackney-chair, the chairmen were excessively drunk,
and after tossing and jolting her for some minutes, set
the chair down ; and the foreman, lifting up the top,
said, " Madam, you are so drunk, that if you do not sit
still, it will be impossible to carry you."
To prove how little I had to say, I will empty my
bi-mensial memory with the only other scrap I have
collected, and which I may send in part of payment for
the four lines of Latin of Archbishop Tennison, which
I have received from your ladyship. Mine is an ancient
Latin saw, which proves that the famous Bulse was a
legal escheat to the Crown. In the new Volume of the
Archffiologia is an essay on the state of the Jews in
England in former times ; and there it is said, " Judaus
verb nihil possidere potest, quia quicquid acquirit,
acquirit regi." I suppose nobody will dispute Mr.
Hastings being a Jew ; or, if you please, for Judmis
you may read Indicus, so like are the words and the
essence. Many thanks for the advertisement, which is curious
indeed ! I have not visited Mr. Herschel's giant tele
scope, though so near me. In truth, the scraps I have
learnt of his discoveries have confounded me : my little
head will not contain the stupendous idea of an infinity
of worlds ; not that I at all disbelieve them, or any
thing that is above my comprehension. Infinite space

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 307
may certainly contain whatever is put into it ; and
there is no reason for imagining that nothing has been
put into it, but what our short-sighted eyes can see.
Worlds, systems of suns and worlds may be as plenty
as blackberries ; but what can such an incredibly small
point as a human skull do with the possibility of om
nipotence's endless creation ? Do but suppose that I
was to unfold to a pismire in my garden an account of
the vast empire of China — not that there is any degree
of proportion in the comparison. Proceed ; suppose
another pismire could form a prodigious, yet invisible,
spying glass, that should give the student ant a glimpse
of the continent of China. Oh ! I must stop : I shall
turn my own brain, which, while it is launching into
an ocean of universes, is still admiring pismire Hers-
chel. That he should not have a wise look, does not
surprise me — he may be stupified at his own discover
ies; or to make them, it might require a head con
structed too simply to contain any diversity of attention
to puny objects. Sir Isaac Newton, they say, was so
absorbed in his pursuits, as to be something of a
changeling in worldly matters ; and when he descended
to earth and conjecture, he was no phenomenon.
I will alight from my altitudes, and confine myself
to our own ant-hill. Have you seen, madam, the hor
rible mandate of the Emperor to General Murray ?
Think of that insect's threatening to sacrifice thousands
of his fellow pismires to what he calls his dignity! the
dignity of a mite, that, supposing itself as superior
as an earwig, meditates preventing hosts of its own
x 2

308 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
species from enjoying the happiness and the moment of
existence that has been allotted to them in an innumer
able succession of ages ! But while scorn, contempt,
and hatred, kindle against the imperial insect, admira
tion crowds in for the brave pismires who so patheti
cally deprecate their doom, yet seem resigned to it ! I
think I never read anything more noble, more touch
ing, than the remonstrance of the Deputies to Prince
Kaunitz. If tyrant dignity is ready to burst on Brabant,
appearances with us seem also too warlike. I shall be
very sorry if it arrives. I flattered myself, that in our
humiliated state, the consequence of our dignity, we
should at least be tame and tranquil for the remnant
of my time ; but what signifies care about moments ?
I will return to your letter ; which set me afloat on the
vasty deep of speculation, to which I am very unequal
and do not love. My understanding is more on a level
with your ball, and meditations on the destruction of
Gorhambury, which I regret. It was in a very crazy
state, but deserved to be propped ; the situation is by
no means delightful.
I called at Sir Joshua's, while he was at Ampt
hill, and saw his Hercules for Russia. I did not at all
admire it : the principal babe put me in mind of what
I read so often, but have not seen, the monstrous
craws. Master Hercules's knees are as large as, I
presume, the late lady Guildford's. Blind Tiresias is
staring with horror at the terrible spectacle. If Sir
Joshua is satisfied with his own departed picture, it is

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 309
more than the possessors or posterity will be. I think
he ought to be paid in annuities only for so long as
his pictures last : one should not grudge him the first
fruits. Mr. Gibbon's three volumes I shall certainly read. I
am fond of quartos : and I dare to say he has laboured
these, and I shall be quite satisfied if they are equal to
the first tome. The long minuet you may be sure I
have, as I get everything I can of Mr. Bunbury's.
Though I have wandered into another sheet, I will
not be so unconscionable as to fill more of it ; and
make your ladyship repent your condescension of
having awakened me. I will only ask whether you
have heard that the Duchess of Kingston has adopted
the eldest Meadows, paid his debts, given him 600/.
a-year, and intends to make him her heir ? Methinks
this is robbing Peter to pay Peter.
Stay, I forgot to tell you, madam, that Miss Boyle
has designed and carved in marble three medallions
of boys, for a chimney-piece, at Ditton. Lady Di.
has done two pictures for "Macbeth" and "Lear:"
the latter with the madman is very fine. Now, I have
finished, indeed.

LETTER CCCVI.

Strawberry Hill, Sept. 15, 1787.
Of such of my editions, madam, as you say Lord
Ossory has not, I am sure I had no doubt but I had

310 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
given him all but one. The last time I was at Ampt
hill, I did desire his lordship to look if he had all my
publications, and told him I would, as far as I could,
perfect his set, as I will now do ; and I am glad to
know which he wants, that I may supply him while I
can. Pray excuse me, if I say a little more on this occa
sion, though it will only be collaterally.
I have been long vexed at the ridiculous prices given
for my editions. It could not be flattering to the
vainest author or editor upon earth ; for their dearness
is solely to be attributed to their scarcity ; and a col
lector who pays extravagantly for a rare book, will
never read in it, or allow anybody else, for the virgin
purity of the margin is as sacred with him as the text.
When the " Anecdotes of Painting" became so
ridiculously dear, which happened by collectors of
portraits cutting out the prints, and using the text,
I suppose, for waste paper, I printed a small edition
without prints, at half-a-crown a volume, that painters
and artists might purchase them cheaply, and that
nobody might pay dearly, unless by choice. This is
all I can do to remedy a folly I did not certainly in
tend to occasion. Those anecdotes are the only thing
I ever published of any use ; and if I reprinted my
other trumpery, nobody would buy them ; and I
cannot afford to put myself to great expense to save
the money of foolish virtuosos.
I am sorry, too, on many accounts, that this idle
list has been printed — but I have several reasons for

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 311
lamenting daily that I ever was either author or
editor. Your ladyship has often suspected me to
continue being the former, against which I have so
lemnly protested, nor except the little dab on Chris
tina of Pisan (on which I shall tell you one of my
regrets) I have not written six pages on any one subject
for some years. No, madam, I have lived to attain
a little more sense ; and were I to recommence my
life, and thought as I do now, I do not believe that
any consideration could induce me to be an author.
I wish to be forgotten ; and though that will be my
lot, it will not be so, so soon as I wish. — In short,
(and it is pride, not humility, that is the source of my
present sentiments,) I have great contempt for middling
writers. We have not only betrayed want of genius,
but want of judgment ; how can one of my grovelling
class open a page of a standard author, and not blush
at his own stuff? I took up " The First Part of
Henry IV." t'other day, and was ready to set fire to
my own printing-house, " Unimitable, unimitated Fal-
staffl " cried Johnson, in a fit of just enthusiasm ;
and yet, amongst all his repentances, I do not find
that Johnson repented of having written his own
" Irene." Well ! I should grow tedious on this subject, madam,
if I gave a loose to my own reflections on that ground
— I will only add two circumstances. Not designing
to add " Christina," as I found Lord Salisbury was not
a noble author, I printed only forty copies. For this
I have been abused and called illiberal, for not letting

312 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
all the possessors of my noble authors have that scrap.
Nay, a Mr. Ireland, a collector, (I believe with in
terested views,) bribed my engraver to sell him a
print of the frontispiece, has etched it himself, and
I have heard, has reprinted the piece — and I suppose
will sell some copies as part of the forty. I could
tell you twenty of these foolish grievances ; one of
which leads to my second circumstance.
In the list for which Lord Ossory asks, is the de
scription of this place; now, though printed, I have
entirely kept it up, and mean to do so while I live,
for very sound reasons, madam, as you will allow.
I am so tormented by visitors to my house, that two
or three rooms are not shewn, to abridge their stay.
In the description are specified all the enamels and
miniatures, &c, which I keep under lock and key.
If the visitors got the book into their hands, I should
never get them out of the house, and they would
want to see fifty articles which I do not choose they
should handle and paw. The mention of the descrip
tion came out by two accidents. I gave an imperfect
account of my collection to an old Mr. Cole, a clergy
man of Cambridge, many years ago, and on his death
it was sold to a bookseller. It set some gossiping
virtuosos on inquiry : Mr. Gulston bribed my en
gravers to sell him some of my prints ; Mr. Gough,
without asking my leave, published a list of ten of
those engravings in his " Topography," and has oc
casioned my being teazed for specimens, which I have
refused. The list of my editions was procured by

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 313
some of these liberal artifices — and yet is not com
plete — yet I am sure I have said enough, madam,
to convince you how much cause I have to regret
having exposed myself to the paltry fame that belongs
to an Aldus or an Elzevir, without having deserved
myself to be printed by either of them !
To others these calamities must sound comic, and
I own I am happy not to have more ponderous : but
it is the consequence of living much alone : one must
grow occupied by one's own trifling aches, when vacant
of graver matter. The worst is, that solitary people
are apt to grow peevish — I hope I am not so — indeed,
on stating my mishaps, I see how insignificant they
are, and laugh at them. I hope, madam, you will do
so too, and at me, if you please.
So little do I remember what I write, that I cannot
for my life recollect what I said in my last, to which
your ladyship replies, that Lord Ossory thinks Her
cules will fail. If you trouble yourself to explain,
tell me if you know a conundrum I heard t'other day ;
Why is a bad wife better than a good one? — the
solution is good, though not very civil to Eves. Oh !
it has just started into my head that Hercules is Sir
Joshua's ; I doubt my poor memory begins to peel off ;
it is not the first crack I have perceived in it. My
brother, Sir Edward, made the same complaint to me
before he died, and I suggested a comfort to him,
that does not satisfy myself. I told him the memory
is like a cabinet, the drawers of which can hold no
more than they can. Fill them with papers ; if you

314 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
add more, you must shove out some of the former.
Just so with the memory ; there is scarce a day in
our lives that something, serious or silly, does not
place itself there, and, consequently, the older we
grow, the more must be displaced to make room for
new contents. " Oh ! " said my brother, " but how do
you account for most early objects remaining ? " —
why, the drawers are lined with gummed taffety ;
the first ingredients stick ; those piled higgledy-
piggledy upon them, are tossed out without difficulty,
as new are stuffed in ; yet I am come to think that
mice and time may gnaw holes in the sides, and nibble
the papers too.

LETTER CCCVII. Oct. 4, 1787.
Nay, madam, I know not how to steer between
Mistress Scylla, impudent vanity, and Madam Cha-
rybdis, affected modesty. You reprove me for being
decently humble, and then tell me you shew my letters
to Mr. Fitzpatrick. Do you think I can like that ?
and can I help suspecting that you are laughing at me
for a credulous old simpleton ? Indeed I do suspect so,
and am not such a gudgeon as to swallow the hook with
which you keep me in play. Mr. Fitzpatrick has too
much sense and taste to be amused with the gossiping
babble of my replies to the questions you put to me ;
and I can have no satisfaction in scribbling the trifles

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 315
I send you, if they are to be seen, or if I am to ponder
and guard them against being downright dotage — and
how shall I discover that they are not so, if they are ;
where is the touchstone on which old age is to try its
decays ? It will strike seventy to-morrow, and who
will be so much my friend as to tell me that it might
as well strike four score ? With these convictions
staring me in the face, do not imagine, my good
madam, that I suppose I can entertain one of the
liveliest young men in England, and who passes his
time with Mr. Fox, Mr. Sheridan, and Mr. Hare. It
will not be kind in you either to shew my letters, or
to believe that I write them to be admired. I have
long been honoured with your correspondence ; I lead
a most insipid life, and when I hear from an old ac
quaintance, I own frankly I am glad to chat and throw
off all the foolish things that have floated last on my
mind, and that have served to amuse me for want of
better employment. My letters are only fit to be seen
by those who have no more rational diversions.
Your ladyship asks me why Mr. Fitzpatrick's " Do-
rinda" is not specified in the catalogue of my impres
sions : recollect, if you please, that I told you that the
list was an imperfect one, and not such as I avow ; but
I let newspapers and magazines say what they please of
me without setting them right. Whoever trusts them
must thank himself for being imposed on in points, in
deed, so unimportant, that it matters not whether they
possess truth or falsehood. This very month a maga
zine has republished a tale which I do not remember,

316 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
and of which I will swear part is false. It is that.
many years ago, I gave Mr. Beauclerc my tragedy,
with injunctions not to shew it to Garrick or Dr.
Johnson. I doubt the fact very much, but am sure
the reason assigned for not communicating it to the
former, is absolutely false : viz., because Garrick was
such a goose as to prefer "Agis" to "Douglas;" — goose,
and goosissime he was, if he did, but I will take my
death I never heard he did ; nor do I believe that any
one ever did, unless the author did, who was such a
goose too, as to write " Agis," ay and all his other
plays, after having written " Douglas." If there is a
grain of truth in the tale, it may have arisen from
what I may have mentioned, and which was true, that
Home, the author, shewed me " Agis" in MS., and
never visited or bowed to me afterwards, because I was
too sincere to commend (I think it was not " Agis,''
but) his " Siege of Aquileia." I doubt, too, the truth
about Johnson ; you know, madam, I never reverenced
him, yet had no reason to be in terrible fear of his
criticisms, for he really, as far as I have heard, always
spoke civilly of my publications.
For another copy of the tragedy, your ladyship
shall have it, if you please, but not the Strawberry
edition, of which I have not one left. I printed an
edition, when the surreptitious one was advertised ;
but on advertising my own, it stopped the pinchbeck
one, and so I avoided publishing it at all. Oh ! these
would be pretty details for the eye of Mr. Fitzpatrick !
indeed, I ought to blush at sending them to Lady Os-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 317
sory; but if you will converse with a printer, what can
he tell you but the anecdotes of his shop. Oct. 5.
I began this in town, where I have been for two
days, to see Lady Cadogan, who has lain in, and had
not time to finish it. Neither the egg of war nor the
egg of peace is hatched yet ; so probably the old hen
of negotiation may sit on both till spring, and then
the chick of the former, being true game, may burst
its shell ; but, in truth, I know nothing, and saving
compassion for the follies and woes of mankind, care
very little about the matter. I know one loves one's
country, because one has done it the honour of being
born in it, and one takes the religion that happens to
be in waiting at the time of one's birth, for much the
same wise reason ; but bating those grave prejudices, I
am grown tolerably indifferent about Europe's bloody
noses, and cannot love and hate just as treaties cross
over and figure in.
I am equally in the dark about any acting that has
been at Park Place ; and for the report of a match
between Lady Constant and Sir Brilliant, I believe it
no more than the story of St. George and the Dragon.
Monsieur Le Chauvelin's verses I think I have seen,
and do like prodigiously, especially "La Gourmandise,"
" L'Orgueil," " La Paresse," " L'Envie," in short, all,
though " Avarice " the least.
Thus I have answered, madam, and prosed accord
ing to custom, and will only tell you more that I
dined last Monday at Bushy (for you know I have

318 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
more penchant for ministers that are out than when
they are in) and never saw a more interesting scene.
Lord North's spirits, good humour, wit, sense, drollery,
are as perfect as ever — the unremitting attention of
Lady North and his children, most touching. Mr.
North leads him about, Miss North sits constantly by
him, carves meat, watches his every motion, scarce
puts a bit into her own lips ; and if one cannot help
commending her she colours with modesty and sorrow
till the tears gush into her eyes — if ever loss of sight
could be compensated it is by so affectionate a family.
Good-night, madam.

LETTER CCCVIII. Berkeley Square, Dec. 3, 1787.
Your ladyship ought not to blame my silence
which you certainly occasioned yourself. Could I be
such a coxcomb as to write letters on purpose that
they might be shewn ? I have scarce ever failed to
answer yours instantly, and chiefly to questions you
have asked ; and in that careless hurry have scribbled
the first trifle or nonsense that presented itself. I
should be ashamed of doing so were my letters to be
shewn ; and more ashamed of preparing them for
inspection, — in short, I cannot write fine letters, nor
would if I could, — I am too old to care a tush for
reputation ; and on the other hand cannot in cold
blood invite people to laugh at me. Living in a very

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 319
confined circle I rarely hear news till stale ; and thus
disqualified for the easiest and best part of a cor
respondent, I was not at all unwilling to give up an
employment that could entertain you so little. It
was no shadow of disrespect to you, madam, that si
lenced me ; but just so much regard to myself as pre
serves me from silly vanity, and the appearance of it.
Though I received your ladyship's letter on Satur
day, and began this reply incontinently, yet I could
not find a minute for finishing it, for being confined by
a slight attack of gout, I can be denied to nobody
and so many people came in, and their hour of dressing
being so much later than mine of dining, they were so
good as to bestow their vacant time on me, their idle
ness being of much more consequence to them than
my obsolete regularity, and consequently my dinner
and the post clashing, and Sunday and the post being
alike incompatible, I was forced to defer this till to
day. The return of the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester
engaged me but the first two or three days, for
etiquette is grown so antiquated in five years and a
half, that, though the duke does not think forms and
ceremonies the least delectable part of the rubric, he is
forced to relax, and they both now return visits in a
morning and go to assemblies in an evening ; in
course my presence is little necessary, and I can lay
myself aside as Polonius would do, though not shocked
as he would be at the dereliction of good old customs.
However, if courts have lost their energy, it is made

320 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
up to the world by the community of princes. Besides
the goodly display at St. James's, there are half-a-
dozen royal personages somewhere or other every
night. In France their Highnesses of Orleans and Bourbon
are banished — as far as Knightsbridge and Kensington.
The monarch sat from nine in the morning till five in
the evening to hear philippics — and may see louisd'ors
representing him like Corniger Ammon : the Duke of
Gloucester has actually brought over one of them —
after such a chapter on demi-gods it would be profane
to mix mortal affairs, and luckily I know nothing of
this nether earth ; your ladyship's, &c.

LETTER CCCIX.
Berkeley Square, Dec. 15, 1787.
I am so shocked, madam, at the account I have
this instant received from your ladyship of the fire in
your house, that I must for a while postpone what
relates to myself. I heartily congratulate the escapes
of your persons and the preservation of your dwelling ;
but I do see that you have still a terrible calamity left,
your suspicions, which seem too well founded. Nor
can I suggest any comfort but the hope that, as you
think no discovery probable, there was no internal
villainy, but that it was an attempt at plunder by
outward banditti, who had no opportunity of firing
the house within. They seem to have meant to draw

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 321
attention to the stables, and then to have conveyed
combustibles to the top of the house, perhaps by
ladders — but as I am not master exactly of the locale,
I don't know whether my conjecture was a probable
one. Indeed it is horrid to be exposed at all to
such violence ; yet it is much lighter than to be dis
tracted between the dread of having execrable servants,
and the horror of suspecting the innocent. I remember
when General Conway's house in Warwick Street was
set on fire, I was persuaded, though I did not utter a
word, that his own maitre dhdtel was the criminal.
He turned livid, looked wrapped in thought, and would
scarce speak a syllable. He was a most worthy honest
creature, and as the sole criminal, who was taken and
confessed everything, and was executed, absolutely
removed every tittle of suspicion from the maitre-
d'hotel, it proved that the poor man, being necessarily
interrogated, could not support the idea of a possibility
of guilt lighting on him. It had been a young secre
tary of Richmond House, who having frequently copied
papers for Mr. Conway, and had married Mrs. Damer's
maid, was familiar in the house, had entered it in the
evening unnoticed, and had concealed himself in a
back room till five in the morning, when he broke
open and robbed Mr. Conway's drawers, and then set
fire to a number of letters and papers that lay on
them, in the library under Mr. Conway's and Lady
Ailesbury's bedchamber. I hope at least, madam, that
you will discover some such extrinsic villain.
I must particularly thank your ladyship for recollect-
VOL. II. Y

322 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
ing your charge against me in such an hour of distress ;
your goodness in telling me your misfortune, and your
saying you know how much I should interest myself
in it, as I do most cordially, proves, I trust, that you
neither really blame me, nor suspect me of becoming
less attached to you than I have been for so many,
many years. No, madam, you do know, I am sure,
that it is my own vanity and pride that has made me
grow a less punctual correspondent. You have often
heard me declare how jealous I am of growing super
annuated, and how much I dread exposing myself in
the dregs of life. I have not those happy spirits of
some ancients, who totter on to the last, and do not
find out, what everybody else does, that they are
ridiculous. Why should I suppose that when every
limb is decayed, my inside should remain more sound ?
My head never was strong enough for me to trust to
its defying the buffets of seventy years ; within this
hour I have experienced its weakness. Lord Car
marthen called on me in the midst of my letter, and I
have almost lost the post, by keeping him with telling
him stories of his great-grandfather, whom I remem
ber. I can, therefore, say nothing now of the future
play at Richmond House, or of that at Ampthill ; but
you shall not lose a very good-humoured story of
Lord North. Colonel Barre" made him a visit lately ;
Lord North said, — " Colonel Barre", nobody will suspect
us of insincerity, if we say that we should always be
overjoyed to see each other."
P.S. — Pray acquaint me if you make any discovery.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 323
Postscript to my Saturday's letter, Dee. 16, 1787.
On considering your ladyship's account of your
conflagrations more deliberately, I perceive that I
mistook, and thought the top of the faggots had been
at the top of the house. Now I conceive, or at least
guess, how the event happened. I conclude some
villains who knew something of your seat, but had not
entrance, set fire to the stables to draw the whole
attention of the family ; and, that lurking at a little
distance in the dark, one of them, seeing their plan
succeed, and all the doors of your house left open by
the servants hurrying to the stables, slipped in and set
fire to the faggots, intending to plunder plate in the
double confusion.
This, detestable as it was, I hope was the case.
You did not say, madam, whether the stables were
burnt down, nor what the house suffered.
The play at Richmond House is to be "The Wonder,"
with " The Guardian." The new performers are Lord
Henry Fitzgerald, who never played in comedy before,
but is good in tragedy ; a Miss Hamilton, niece of
Lord Abercorn, and a Captain Merry. Mrs. Hobart
does not play in those pieces, but is to choose her own
part in the next. In return I shall expect a detail of
the theatre at Ampthill.
I have had no formal gout, but several skirmishes
with it that have confined me for two or three days at
a time ; yet I have been once at the Opera, and was
tired to death ; and though I came away the moment
it was ended did not get home till a quarter before
Y 2

324 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
twelve. The learned call the music good, but there is
nothing to shew the humour and action of the Storace
and Morelli. I bought the book to read at home,
because the Emperor paid 1000/. for the piece as a
satire on the King of Sweden — how, the Lord knows.
The plot is taken from Voltaire's deposed kings at
Venice in his " Candide," of whom only two are
introduced, King Theodore and Sultan Achmet. The
words are ten times stupider than our operas generally
are; nor do I yet know that the King of Sweden, to
whom I am no more partial than Caesar is, was ever
deposed. In short, if it is a satire on any mortal it is
one on Caesar himself, for having paid so dear for such
unintelligible nonsense.
My elderly cousin, Mr. Thomas Walpole, has espoused
the sister of Monsieur Frances, Madame de Villegag-
non, at Paris, who is no infant neither, — but that is
their affair.
I am going to tell you a story, madam, that perhaps
you have heard better from Mr. Fitzpatrick, who was
one of the company. Lord Westcote wrote lately to
Lord North, that as his lordship was in so deplorable
a condition, he, Lord Westcote, should go over to Mr.
Pitt. Soon after, the speaker, not knowing of that
missive, invited Lord Westcote to dinner with a set of
the opposition, who did know a little more of the
matter, though pretending ignorance. The conversa
tion soon fell on Lord George Gordon's Mosaic beard —
on which one of the company said it was lucky when
converts wore distinguishing marks by which they

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 325
might be reconnoitred, and the whole dinner was
carried on in the same tormenting style.
You will not be less diverted with an anecdote of
your aunt. She had a mind to go to Gloucester
House, but declared she could not till an affair was
arranged, for she had had a quarrel with the Duchess
of Gloucester in the year one — no mortal could guess
what she meant, nor do I know yet, for her Grace of
Bedford herself was not born in 1700, nor the Duchess
of Gloucester till 1735. The latter said they never
could have had a quarrel, for they never had been
intimate enough. This anachronism (in her Grace's
memory) has somehow or other been rectified, and she
has been at Gloucester House.
This is an inordinate postscript, and I will add no
more, but that Strawberry has felt many a twitch
since the fire at Ampthill. Dec. 17, 1787.
I was at a rehearsal last night and amazed. Lord
Henry is a prodigy, a perfection — all passion, nature
and ease ; you never saw so genuine a lover. Garrick
was a monkey to him in Don Felix : then he is so
much the man of fashion, and is so genteel, — in short,
when people of quality can act, they must act their
own parts so much better than others can mimic
them ! Mr. Merry is an excellent Lissardo too.

326 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCCX.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 15, 1788.
All joy to your ladyship on the success of your
theatric campaign. I do think the representation of
plays as entertaining and ingenious, as choosing king
and queen, and the gambols and mummeries of our
ancestors at Christmas ; or as making one's neigh
bours and all their servants drunk, and sending them
home ten miles in the dark with the chance of break
ing their necks by some comical overturn. I wish I
could have been one of the audience — but alas ! I am
like the African lamb, and can only feed on the grass
and herbs that grow within my reach.
I can make no returns yet from the theatre at Rich
mond House ; the duke and duchess do not come till
the birthday, and I have been at no more rehearsals,
being satisfied with two of the play. Prologue or epi
logue there is to be none, as neither the plays nor the
performers, in general, are new. The " Jealous Wife "
is to succeed for the exhibition of Mrs. Hobart, who
could have no part in " The Wonder."
My histrionic acquaintance spreads; I supped at
Lady Dorothy Hotham's with Mrs. Siddons, and have
visited and been visited by her, and have seen and
liked her much, yes, very much, in the passionate
scenes in " Percy ; " but I do not admire her in cool
declamation, and find her voice very hollow and de
fective. I asked her in which part she would most

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 327
wish me to see her ? She named Portia in the " Mer
chant of Venice ; " but I begged to be excused. With
all my enthusiasm for Shakspeare, it is one of his
plays that I like the least ; the story of the caskets
is silly, and, except the character of Shylock, I see
nothing beyond the attainment of a mortal : Euripides
or Racine or Voltaire might have written all the
rest. Moreover, Mrs. Siddons's warmest devotees do
not hold her above a demigoddess in comedy. I have
chosen " Athenais," in which she is to appear soon ;
her scorn is admirable.
Of news I have heard none but foreign, nor those
more circumstantially than the papers recount. The
Russian empress, the Austrian emperor, and Mount
Vesuvius, are playing the devil with the world. The
Parliaments of France, in the usual disproportion of
good to evil, are aiming at wrenching from the crown
some freedom for their country — at a fortunate and
wise moment, for the crown is poor, and cannot bribe
even the nobility, who will mutiny since they cannot
sell themselves. The elements, too, as if their pensions
also were struck off, have vented their wrath on some
of the costly Cones at Cherbourg. Well ! we have a
little breathing time, and may play the fool.
A propos to Russia, did you advert, madam, to the
identity of Prince Alexis of Brunswick, for so the
"Gazette" was pleased to call him, as if he was
nothing but a cadet of a German house. Yet he was
the second son of Princess Anne of Mecklenberg, and
brother of poor John, the butchered Czar. Alexis was

328 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
consequently the hereditary right heir of the empire,
if right had any title in despotic countries, where
accident, address, force, or murder, bestow the crown.
It was Mr. Coxe brought me acquainted with that
unfortunate branch, and the best thing I know of
Catherine was her releasing Alexis and his sisters ;
but what excuses her imprisoning their father Prince
Antony for life, who had no more title to the crown
than she herself, or exactly the same — the having mar
ried a right candidate.
Puppet-shows are coming on, the birthday, the par
liament, and the trials of Hastings and his imp, Elijah.
They will fill the town, I suppose.
Have you discovered nothing of your incendiaries,
madam ? I swear by the beard of St. George Gordon
there seems to have been more malice than a spirit of
robbery in the double conflagration.
If the young actress who played Kitty so admirably
in " High Life below Stairs," is not engaged at either
of the theatres at Blenheim or Winstay, I believe she
might have a large salary and free benefit at Richmond
House, where they are in sad want of an Ines in the
" Wonder " — and I am sure no daughter of Ampthill
has crooked legs.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 329
LETTER CCCXI.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 14, 1788.
Though I cannot use my right hand, as it is
muffled up with a little gout, I must send your lady
ship a line or two, as I am extremely concerned at
what I have heard. Lady Waldegrave told me yester
day that your house had again been on fire. It is
shocking, indeed ; and I wonder you have courage to
stay in it, without a whole garrison. I beg at your
leisure, madam, you will tell me if you make any
discoveries. I got cold last week at the play at Richmond House,
or rather a violent cough, which, according to the har
lequinades of the gout, turned into pain in one of my
fingers, and I hope will make its exit there soon, for it
is but a slight gambol. Mrs. Damer is ill and the play
is postponed till Monday, if Lord Henry is not run
away with in the mean time, for he has raised a
thousand passions.
I will not prolong my letter, having had nothing
else to say, and now propose to stop my ears that I may
not be tired to death with hearing of Mr. Hastings's
trial. Adieu, madam, yours, &c.

LETTER CCCXII.

Strawberry Hill, July 9, 1788.
To be sure, madam, I was not in good charity
with you for not coming to Strawberry, which you have

330 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
abandoned for these three years. You think to make
it up by inquiring after my howd'yedo-ness, and,
though I will forgive once more, I will inform your
ladyship that one's self-love is not at all limited to
one's specific person, but insinuates itself into every
thing that belongs to one — to one's house, to one's
garden, to one's collection, and
" Feels at each thread, and lives along the line."
People may cram one with attentions, and affront one
at the same time, by neglecting some trifling object on
which one's heart is set. Lovers gain ground by doat-
ing on their charmer's lap-dog, and toad-eaters worship
their patroness's taste in every circumstance : they
admire her attitude on a hassock or at a quinze-table.
These are only general hints ; but the corollary is,
that Lady Anne is much more in my good graces than
the countess, her honoured mother.
Still I own myself obliged to your ladyship for the
printed advertisement, which I had not seen. Un
luckily, my self-love does not extend to my writings,
and I had rather you had made a visit to Strawberry
than an addition to my royal authors. As I raise none
from the dead till they have been interred in the
church-yard of the temple of fame, Cheltenham, it is to
be hoped, will save me the trouble of a codicil.
Indeed, I have been in doubt whether I had not
lately put up a prince who had some title to figure
in my catalogue. Mile. Keralio, in her Collection des
meilleurs ouvrages Francois composes par des femmes,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 331
has produced two little poems, composed in English,
by the Duke of Orleans, who was prisoner here for
five-and-twenty years after the battle of Agincourt ;
but, alas ! they are as indifferent as if they had been
composed by the present ornament of his title ! and
therefore, though Christina of Pisan had lent her lover,
Lord Salisbury, merit enough to be adopted, I shall not
naturalize the French prince.
Mr. Selwyn has been confined in town by a fever,
and I have not seen him since the royal progress was
intended. I do hope his Matson will be illustrated
again, as it was at the siege of Gloucester. How
happy he would be to have the present Prince of
Wales and Duke of York leave their names, with a
penknife, on his window, as the sons of Charles I. did,
though, unless some of the personages end as unfor
tunately, he will never be so fond of them.
You know, I suppose, madam, that the second
prince has purchased Oatlands. That, too, is a cir
cumstance that will chime with Selwyn's partialities.
King Charles's third son was born there, and called
Henry of Oatlands. I am to go thither to-morrow to
see the grotto, which I have neglected doing hitherto,
though so much within my reach ; yes, I am going
to see the speluncam where —
" Dido Dux et — "
My verdure begins to recover its bloom, madam,
like yours. I did not despair, for, in this country,
nobody pays his debts like rain. It may destroy

332 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
your flowers, but you cannot complain of want of
fruit ; cherries, apples, walnuts, are more exuberant
than their leaves ; I don't believe that a single blossom
will fail of coming of age. Cherries, I am told, are
cried in London at a halfpenny a pound, — Kentish
ones, I mean, — which is cheaper than they have been
since William the Conqueror landed there.
Having no news for your eye or ear, I inclose a
drawing that I got a young lady at Richmond to copy
for me t'other day, and which Lady Anne may mul
tiply easily, by tracing over it against the window.
I hope you will be as much diverted with it as I was ;
it proves the truth of the old saying, that two heads
are better than one.
As I find I am already too late for our post, which
comes in at eleven and goes out at one, for the
benefit of trade, — not for the trade of correspondence,
I am sure, — I will leave a corner till I have been at
Oatlands. Thursday night.
Woe is me ! I don't know whether it is that I am
grown old and cross, but I have been disappointed.
Oatlands, that my memory had taken it into its head
was the centre of paradise, is not half so Elysian as
I used to think. The grotto, a magnificent structure
of shell-work, is a square regular edifice, and, which
never happed to grotto before, lives up one pair of
stairs, and yet only looks on a' bason of dirty water ;
in short, I am returned to my own Thames with
delight, and envy none of the princes of the earth.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 333
LETTER CCCXIII.
Strawberry Hill, July 22, 1788.
I know well, madam, that I ought to have thanked
you sooner for the double heads drawn by Lady Anne,
who has married them very happily ; but, however
full the heart may be of gratitude, thanks will not
fill a letter, and you certainly had rather receive a
phial of news than a quart of effusions of all the
virtues that could be distilled ; but, alas ! my labo
ratory is as empty of novelty as of such essences, and
like an apothecary's shop, has only empty gallipots,
with labels of what they ought to contain, gratitude
excepted, which I have in the root.
You say, madam, you did not leave yourself room
to form a new administration. I have plainly paper
enough before me for that purpose ; but there too, I
am no adept, and content myself, like the sovereign
maker of ministers, with being more glad of those I get
rid of, than fond of their successors. Were I in town,
I should chiefly take care to avoid being within reach
of the bludgeon fist of Mrs. H., who must be in a sweet
mood on having lost her trident, after all her intrigues,
to fix it in her brother's hand. I started prodigiously
into her favour the last time General Conway came
into place, and she told me her eldest niece was pas
sionately fond of poetry, and died to read my tragedy,
which I lent her. Mr. Conway went out, and I never
heard more of Miss's taste for the belles lettres. In
her room I have got a new admirer, though an anony-

334 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
mous one. It is the gentleman who has dedicated to
me and Sir Joshua Reynolds two quarto pieces, called
" Imperfect Hints for a new Edition of Shakspeare."
In one of the notes the author with great goodnature,
calls me Time-honoured Lancaster. Beshrew me,
little did I think that my shadow of a person would in
any point ever come in contact with the giant mould
of John of Gaunt ; but I find that one has nothing to
do but to live long enough, and somehow or other, one
may grow like to anybody ; but I must tell your lady
ship of a more diverting application, if not of an ancient
passage, at least of venerable customs. You may know
perhaps, that in days of yore, the flaps of seats in choirs
of cathedrals were decorated with sculptures, sometimes
with legends, oftener, alas ! with devices, at best ludi
crous, frequently not fit to meet the eye of modesty !
Well, madam, two new stalls being added in the church
of St. George at Windsor, as niches for the supernume
rary knights that have been added, the costume has
been observed and carried on in the new flaps — not to
call up a blush in the cheek of mother church, but in
the true catholic spirit ; one of the bas reliefs I do not
know, but probably the martyrdom of St. Edmund the
King ; the other is the ineffected martyrdom of George
the King, by Margaret Nicholson. The body-coachman
is standing by, to ascertain the precise moment. If
you had not heard of this decoration, I will not say,
madam, that I had no news to send you, at least I may
subscribe myself,
Your ladyship's humble clerke and antiquarie, H. W.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 335

LETTER CCCXIV.
Strawberry Hill, Aug. 16, 1788.
Most true, madam, neither my person nor age seem
suited to be prominent on the hustings; but my long
connection with Lord John's grandmother, and thence
with him, made it impossible for me to avoid contribut
ing my vote ; but I contrived so well, that I was in my
own house again by twenty minutes after nine in the
morning ; and by choosing a Monday, before the mob
had recovered their drunkenness of the Sabbath, there
was much less crowd in the garden than on a common
market-day. A week later, and I must have been
carried on a chairman's horse — an exhibition I should
have excused myself : in a word, I have been confined
a fortnight by the gout in my left arm, hand, and knee,
and cannot yet put on a coat. Having had two fits in
the winter, I expected nothing less than a third ; now
I find that there are three tyrants against whom no
prescription holds, and I shall add to that righteous
maxim of the lawyers, Nullum tempus occurrit regi, et
ecclesice, et podagrce: however long ago, however lately
they have signed a release, they can re-enter on the
premises and take possession.
Mr. Selwyn, I do not doubt, is superlatively happy.
I am curious to know what relics he has gleaned from
the royal visit, that he can bottle up and place in his
sanctum sanctorum. Peter Pindar probably has col-

336 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
lected other droppings. A propos, madam, have you
seen the two volumes of " Extracts from the Letters of
the Regent's Mother to Queen Caroline ?" They will
entertain you exceedingly, and I have no doubt of their
authenticity. I know these royal dames gossiped to
gether ; and Madame d'Orleans was so careless, that one
of our Queen's letters got into the " Utrecht Gazette" at
the time, and contained an intrigue of one of her women
of the bedchamber.
The Selwyn I do not expect soon at Richmond, for
the Carlisles are going to Cheltenham ; but so many
loadstones draw him, that I, who have no attraction,
seldom see him. In truth I wonder your ladyship has
patience with me as a correspondent, for it is difficult
to be one of this world less than I am. Fontenelle and
others have made the dead converse, but you hold a talk
with a Strulbrug, who is not half so good company ;
nay, I should scarce have been taken notice of at the
election, unless it was supposed that it was my ghost
that appeared, and consequently I shall be charged as
one of Lord John's bad votes ; and Mr. Samuel Martin
would be ready to swear to my non-existence — -he who,
I have good reason to think, above a dozen years ago,
bribed my own gardener, when I was very ill in London,
to go to town and insist upon seeing me. As at least
then I was alive, I was so ill-natured as to give him
ocular proof. In another illness, when his hopes were
again raised, he sent to my deputy and threatened to
turn him out, should I fail, if he did not inform him of
the true worth of my office. I made an epigram on

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 337
the occasion, in which I offered to satisfy him myself,
except by dying. I forget all but the two last lines :
"  But as 1 love not target, meat, or wine,
Ask me whate'er you will — except to dine."
But I think my living to the length of an epic poem, is
more severe than any distich ; and I do not believe there
is an archbishop in England that would not willingly
be so uncharitable as to live to the age of Methusalem,
if he knew who was to be his successor.
Are not you diverted, madam, with the nonplus of
Caesar and Semiramis ? To be beaten at her own door
by a pert little Swede, when she was preparing to be
crowned in Santa Sophia : what if she should be over
turned as Pindarically as she was exalted ! I have an
instance of a deposed sovereign in my neighbourhood,
of a very different character, the late Queen of Pennsyl
vania. Lady Juliana Penn, once mistress of a revenue
of 36,000/. a-year, is now lodging modestly, humbly,
and tranquilly at Petersham on 600/. a-year ; and her
mind is so reconciled to her fortune, that she is still
very handsome. She is to breakfast here soon, and I
shall think Matson was not more honoured,

LETTER CCCXV. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 6, 1788.
I am not apt to boast, madam ; yet, considering
that I have had three legal fits of the gout in eight
months, I am as much a Hercules again as a gentleman
vol. n. z

338 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
cut out of paper can be. Nay I have been to Park-
place on a pilgrimage to little Master Stonehenge, alias
the Druids' Temple from Jersey, which is now erected
on the back of an eminent hill, with two wings of fir
groves at small distances, and is seen from the garden
over a long ridge of firs that shoot up from the side of
the beautiful descending valley. Every morsel of stone
that formed the circle originally, is placed to an inch in
its primitive position ; and though the whole is dimi
nutive, yet being seen on the horizon, it looks very
highpriestly, and in that broken country may easily be
taken for respectable ruins of an ancient castle, or
Caractacus's own summer-residence. Park-place is now
one of the spots the most deserving to be visited in our
island ; for, besides the variety of the ground, the di
versity of the landscapes and prospects, all glittering
with meanders of the Thames at a distance, or washed
by it as it borders the shores, what singular objects
are to be seen there ! — the rocky bridge, the Druidic
temple, Lady Ailesbury's worked pictures, and Henley-
bridge, with Mrs. Damer's colossal heads of the Thame
and Isis. In short, Park-place would not have been an
unworthy codicil to Lady Anne's tour, though two of
my favourites, the historic Castle of Warwick, and the
pretty appendix to history, Matson, were delightful
ingredients of it. Methinks the loyalty of the master
of the latter was not displayed with the judgment of
an old courtier ; especially as I believe his own senti
ments were as little in harmony with what he left and
what he removed, as with his sovereign's.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 339
Ragley is superb, that is, the situation, and the
dimensions of the house, but has nothing else to occupy
or detain one a moment. I remember, when I was at
Matson, the poor mad gentlewoman who made an
aviary of the cathedral, in hopes that the soul of her
only daughter would come and pick some seeds in the
shape of a robin-red-breast ; panes were left void of
glass in the windows, lest the ghostly dicky-birds
should cut their feet, and pans of seeds were dispersed
around, and constant feasts made, as if Bel and the
Dragon were come to breakfast — but the Chapter
found their account, for the metempsychosian gentle
woman new-paved the tabernacle, and painted and
white-washed, so no church or cage was ever kept
more snug.
I allow your ladyship's observations on the Duchess
of Orleans, and own she often censures Mad. de Main-
tenon in the wrong place : and certainly knew no more
than she could not help knowing ; but most of those
traits are very characteristic, and I firmly believe her,
for her sincerity on her own homeliness and ugly
hands, shew her frank love of truth as far as it came
within her reach. I have since been reading in the
" Esprit des Journaux" an account of a late Bishop of
Amiens, who was a saint, and yet had a great deal of wit.
A lady went to consult him whether she might wear
rouge ; she had been with several directeurs, but some
were so severe, and some so relaxed, that she could
not satisfy her conscience, and therefore was come to
Monseigneur to decide for her, and would rest by his
z 2

340 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
sentence. "I see, madam," said the good prelate,
" what the case is, some of your casuists forbid rouge
totally ; others will permit you to wear as much as you
please — now for my part, I love a medium in all
things, and therefore I permit you to wear rouge on
one cheek only."
I cannot say there will be quite so much wit in the
anecdote I am going to tell you next. Lady Greenwich
t'other day, in a conversation with Lady Tweeddale,
named the Saxons (the Lord knows how that hap
pened) — "the Saxons, my dear!" cried the marchi
oness, "who were they?" — "Lord, madam, did your
ladyship never read the History of England?" "No,
my dear ; pray who wrote it ?" — don't it put you in
mind of Mattoe and the Allogobroges in Grammont ?
Void a second dialogue of the same dame with the
Duchess of Argyll, who went to her to hire a house the
marchioness has here on Twickenham Common, for her
brother General Gunning.
Marchioness. — But will he pay me for it ?
Duchess. — Madam, my brother can afford to pay for
it — and if he cannot, I can.
Marchioness. — Oh ! I am glad, I shall have my
money — well, my dear, but am I to wish you joy on
Lady Augusta's marriage ?
Duchess. — No great joy, madam : there was no great
occasion for Lady Augusta Campbell to be married.
Marchioness. — Lord, my dear, I wonder to hear you
say so, who have been married twice.
You say, madam, you send me trash — pray, what do

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 341
I send in return ? — but you must recollect, that I know
no more than the Duchess of Orleans. However, as I
have some paper left, if my packet is stuffed with
trumpery, at least it shall be full of it, and I will add
one more story which Lady Onslow told me lately.
Once, when her lord was absent for a fortnight, she
invited an officer to keep her company, to the great
scandal of a prudish lady her neighbour, and of whom
she asked leave to carry him into her pew at church,
which the other, though with marks of surprise and
indignation, could not avoid permitting. Sunday came,
and my lady and the major — yet, though the minister
had begun the service, the prude could not help whis
pering Lady 0., " You did not tell me the major had
grey hair!"
Such is the lore, madam, in which I am versed !
Dowagers are the evergreens among which I am
planted, and whence I can gather nothing couleur de
rose to send you. Though we have young princes to
entertain the young world with their amours and their
buildings, I pass most of my elderly hours with no
better company than myself, and live upon the rem
nant of my memory, which is not in the highest
preservation. I am glad, however, to read in the
newspapers, that the Archbishop of Sens is removed in
France, and Monsieur Necker reinstated. I know the
former well, he was my dear old friend's nephew, and
is the most ambitious man alive, and in time of less
distress would have been a thorn in our side, whom he
hates supremely. Necker, not being a Frenchman, and

342 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
being a Protestant, cannot be our personal foe ; and
from his profession and habitudes, and above all, having
no chance of remaining in power, but by attempting
to restore their finances, war is the last instrument he
will employ.
Peace is my dear delight, not Fleury's more, nor his
compeer's, my father. I am glad that those gigantic
incendiaries, the Russian Empress and Austrian Em
peror, are so hampered, disappointed, mortified ; nay,
I prefer to them even the whore of Babylon and Pagan
Turks, who were living quietly and honestly on the
cheats and robberies of their predecessors and fore
fathers ; and disturbed nobody. Good night ! madam,
when you are tired of my village tales, you may easily
check me : they are welcome to die where they sprung.

LETTER CCCXVI. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 24, 1788.
Mere answers, that are not made to letters imme
diately, are like good things that people recollect they
might have said, if they had thought on them in time :
that is, very insipid, and the d propos very probably
forgotten ; yet, as I have taken out my doctor's degree
in insipidity, I shall not scruple acting in character,
but shall reply to the items in your ladyship's last, in
as dull and downright a manner as if I were of any of
the learned professions, and were consulted by you.
The fragment of prologue you sent me I like much ;
the description of Dr. Johnson is very just ; and for

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 343
me, though I am numbered among the blue stockings,
my stockings are so very thin, that not a thread aches
at the laugh at them.
The person you wish to be acquainted with, madam,
that you may question him on many particulars of his
book, is a most worthy man, who would be very proud
of the honour of being presented to your ladyship, but
I doubt whether you would admire him as much as his
heroes. He is very grave, very circumstantial, and his
visits are not epigrams ; but then he lives at the end of
the world, as you do at the beginning, and you would
see him but seldom.
The flaming patriot that was willing to go to the
Devil to save country gentlemen from the weight of the
land-tax, I should think was a Jacobite parson, who
hated the Revolution, and had many disciples in the
class of squires. . There must have been something of
the church in such zeal ; and I dare to say he thought
there was a back door from Hell into the vestry, by
which he should escape and get absolution from some
nonjuring brother. The patriots I have seen of later
days have not been formed of such combustible ingre
dients. Oh no ! per contra ; and as Bossuet, I think,
wrote against the Huguenots "L'Historie des Varia
tions," a second part might be added on the civil
variations of English Protestants or Protesters.
On the Duchess of Kingston I have nothing to say :
I was weary of her folly and vanity long ago, and now
look on her only as a big bubble that is burst.
New game, or village anecdotes, I have none to send

344 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
you, madam ; nor from my own narrow circle, but that
I have had a sort of impromptu visit from the Duke of
York. He sent me word one evening that if I were
alone he would come with some company and see my
house; but it proving too late, he appointed the next
day, and came. As I had never been presented to
him, I asked leave at the door to kiss his hand, but he
would not suffer it ; and indeed the whole time he
stayed, which was about an hour, it was impossible to be
more gracious, or to say more obliging things. His
uncle, the late duke, surprised me still more suddenly
eight and twenty years ago. Two Dukes of York, at
such a distance of time, make me seem to have lived
till the same adventures come round again to me in
different reigns. You must not wonder, madam, if I
give myself the airs of a patriarch, when I am so like
Abraham, who at very distant periods- had exactly the
same incidents happen to him twice from two princes
about his wife ; for Sarah's charms, it seems, remained
in fashion as long as Strawberry's, though one should
have thought that young princes would not have an
appetite for anything so Gothic as either.
I have answered ; I have related ; and I have not a
syllable more to say, but good night, my dear lady.
P.S. — In exchange for the prologue, madam, I send
you the inscription which the council of Jersey sent
over to General Conway, with the Druidic temple : —
" Pour des siecles cach^ aux regards des mortels
Cet ancien monument, ces pierres, ces autels,
Ou le sang des humains offert en sacrifice
Ruissela pour des Dieux, qu'enfanta le caprice ;

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 345
Ce monument sans prix par son antiquite,
Temoignera pour nous a la posterity
Que dans tous les dangers Cesaree eut un pere,
Attentif et vaillant, genereux et prospere,
Et redira, Conway, aux siecles a venir,
Qu'en vertu du respect du a ce souvenir,
Elle te fit ce don, acquis a ta vaillance,
Comme un juste tribut de sa reconnoissance.

LETTER CCCXVII. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 11, 1788.
I am sorry, madam, that Mes. Villageoises have
no better provender than my syllogisms to send to
their correspondents, nor am I ambitious of rivalling
the barber or innkeeper, and becoming the wit of five
miles round. I remember how, long ago, I estimated
local renown at its just value by a sort of little adven
ture that I will tell you ; and, since that, there is an
admirable chapter somewhere in Voltaire which shews
that more extended fame is but local on a little larger
scale ; it is the chapter of the Chinese who goes into a
European bookseller's shop, and is amazed at finding
none of the works of his most celebrated countrymen ;
while the bookseller finds the stranger equally ignorant
of western classics.
Well, madam, here is my tiny story : I went once
with Mr. Rigby to see a window of painted glass at
Messling, in Essex, and dined at a better sort of ale
house. The landlady waited on us and was notably
loquacious, and entertained us with the bons mots and
funny exploits of Mr. Charles ; Mr. Charles said this,

346 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Mr. Charles played such a trick : oh ! nothing was so
pleasant as Mr. Charles. But how astonished the poor
soul was when we asked who Mr. Charles was ; and
how much more astonished when she found we had
never heard of Mr. Charles Luchyn, who, it seems, is a
relation of Lord Grimston, had lived in their village,
and been the George Selwyn of half a dozen cottages.
If I had a grain of ambitious pride left, it is what,
in other respects, has been the thread that has run
through my life, that of being forgotten ; so true,
except the folly of being an author, has been what I
said last year to the Prince of Wales when he asked
me if I was a Freemason, I replied, " No, Sir ; I never
was anything."
A propos to the Prince ; I am sorry you do not
approve my offering to kiss the Duke of York's
hand when he came to see my house. I never had
been presented to him ; but moreover, as I am very
secure of never being suspected to pay my court for
interest, and certainly never seek royal personages,
I always pique myself, when thrown in their way,
upon shewing that I know I am nobody, and know the
distance between them and me : this I take to be
common sense, and do not repent of my behaviour. If
I were a grandee and in place, I would not, like the
late Duchess of Northumberland, tag after them calling
them my master and my mistress. I think, if I were
their servant, I would as little, like the same Grace,
parade before the Queen with more footmen than her
Majesty. That was impertinent.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 347
I am sorry, for the third time of this letter, that I
have no new village anecdotes to send your ladyship,
since they divert you for a moment. I have one but
some months old. Lady Charleville, my neighbour,
told me three months ago, that, having some company
with her, one of them had been to see Strawberry.
"Pray," said another, "who is that Mr. Walpole?"
" Lord ! " cried a third ; " don't you know the great
epicure Mr. Walpole ?" " Pho !" said the first ; " great
epicure ! you mean the antiquarian." There, madam,
surely this anecdote may take its place in the chapter
of local fame. If I have picked up no recent anec
dotes on our common, I have made a much more, to
me, precious acquisition. It is the acquaintance of
two young ladies of the name of Berry, whom I first
saw last winter, and who accidentally took a house
here with their father for this season. Their story is
singular enough to entertain you. The grandfather, a
Scot, had a large estate in his own country, 5000/.
a-year it is said ; and a circumstance I shall tell you
makes it probable. The eldest son married for love a
woman with no fortune. The old man was enraged
and would not see him. The wife died and left these
two young ladies. Their grandfather wished for an heir
male, and pressed the widower to remarry, but could
not prevail ; the son declaring he would consecrate
himself to his daughters and their education. The old
man did not break with him again, but, much worse,
totally disinherited him and left all to his second son,
who very handsomely gave up 800/. a-year to his elder

348 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
brother. Mr. Berry has since carried his daughters for
two or three years to France and Italy, and they are
returned the best informed and the most perfect crea
tures I ever saw at their age. They are exceedingly
sensible, entirely natural and unaffected, frank, and,
being qualified to talk on any subject, nothing is so
easy and agreeable as their conversation — not more
apposite than their answers and observations. The
eldest, I discovered by chance, understands Latin and
is a perfect Frenchwoman in her language. The
younger draws charmingly, and has copied admirably
Lady Di's gipsies, which I lent, though for the first
time of her attempting colours. They are of pleasing
figures ; Mary, the eldest, sweet, with fine dark eyes,
that are very lively when she speaks, with a symmetry
of face that is the more interesting from being pale ;
Agnes, the younger, has an agreeable sensible coun
tenance, hardly to be called handsome, but almost.
She is less animated than Mary, but seems out of
deference to her sister to speak seldomer, for they doat
on each other, and Mary is always praising her sister's
talents. I must even tell you they dress within the
bounds of fashion, though fashionably ; but without
the excrescences and balconies with which modern
hoydens overwhelm and barricade their persons. In
short, good sense, information, simplicity, and ease,
characterise the Berrys ; and this is not particularly
mine, who am apt to be prejudiced, but the universal
voice of all who know them. The first night I met
them I would not be acquainted with them, having

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 349
heard so much in their praise that I concluded they
would be all pretension. The second time, in a very
small company, I sat next to Mary, and found her an
angel both inside and out. Now I do not know which
I like best, except Mary's face, which is formed for a
sentimental novel, but is ten times fitter for a fifty
times better thing, genteel comedy. This delightful
family comes to me almost every Sunday evening, as
our region is too proclamatory to play at cards on the
seventh day. I do not care a straw for cards, but I do
disapprove of this partiality to the youngest child of
the week ; while the other poor six days are treated
as if they had no souls to save. I forgot to tell you
that Mr. Berry is a little merry man with a round face,
and you would not suspect him of so much feeling and
attachment. I make no excuse for such minute
details ; for, if your ladyship insists on hearing the
humours of my district, you must for once indulge me
with sending you two pearls that I found in my path.

LETTER CCCXVIII. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 19, 1788.
It stands me upon, madam, to hurry my answer,
when I have to thank you for your very pretty and
very flattering poetry. Little did I think that my
two Straw Berries would prove muses at Farming-
Woods. I sent your ladyship an account of them from

350 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
absolute dearth of subjects, when you had commanded
me to write again, and when I had done so, I repented,
and thought you would laugh at me in your mind's
mouth, for troubling you with an idle description of two
girls with whom I have happened to get acquainted.
Luckily, your ladyship and our lord were, at that
moment, full as much a man and woman of the
woods as any marquis in Christendom ; and, as you
are there still, I shall venture to proceed, and send
you, not an adequate return (as far as my part goes)
for your verses but some of les amusemens des eaux
du Strawberri, but beseech that they may go no
farther, for trifles that egayent a little private society,
are ridiculous, if they get abroad, especially from a
septuagenary rhymer.
The Berrys were to come and see my printing-press.
I recollected my gallantry of former days, and they
found these stanzas ready set : —
To Mary's lips has ancient Rome
Her purest language taught,
And from the modern city-home
Agnes its pencil brought.
Rome's ancient Horace sweetly chants
Such maids with lyric fire ;
Albion's old Horace sings nor paints —
He only can admire.
Still would his press their fame record,
So amiable the pair is !
But, ah ! how vain to think his word
Can add a straw to Berrys !

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 351
The next morning, the Latian nymph sent me these
lines: — Had Rome's famed Horace thus addrest
His Lydia or his Lyce,
He had ne'er so oft complain'd their breast
To him was cold and icy.
But had they sought their joy to explain,
Or praise their generous bard,
Perhaps, like me, they had tried in vain,
And felt the task too hard.
I will now quit my pretty natural new acquaintance,
to utter my wonder (for wonder I do at this novel
gquipee, though accustomed to so many of her vagaries)
of a former poetic connoissance, Lady C  . One is
apt to cry, on hearing any eccentric exploit, " Oh, she
is mad !" but surely the packet to Blenheim, and the
two proposals, considering all circumstances, were pro
duced by the full of the moon. Indeed, those coups de
lune come thick and fast. But last week, another of
her projects came to my knowledge ; I do not think
myself at liberty to mention it yet, though it will
be no secret ; but you will allow, madam, that / have
good reason not to be the first to divulge it. When
you hear it, I will tell you more concerning it.
Lady Tweeddale, between fondness and enormous
thrift, really did starve her children ; but she is
strangely foolish, and then what can one say more ?
George is returned to Richmond, and diverted me
prodigiously. I had foretold that he would bottle up
some relict from the royal visit, but, as he has more
wit than I have prophetic spirit, his label to a certain

352 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
patera of La Reine boit far outwent my imagination ;
I suppose he told it to Lord Ossory, or shewed it
to him.
I have been entertained, too, by a visit of Lord
Leicester to Penshurt, from Tunbridge. As the former
had belonged to usurpers of his title, of which he
had been wronged from the aera of the Conquest, I
should not have thought he would have deigned to
enter it. Oh ! but he did ; ay, and fell in love with,
and wants to purchase it. In the mansion, he found
a helmet, and put it on, but, unfortunately, it had
been made for some paladin whose head was not of
the exact standard that a genuine Earl of Leicester's
should be, and, in doffing it, he almost tore one of
his ears off. I am persuaded he tried it with the
intention of wearing it at the next coronation, for,
when he was but two-and-twenty, he called on me
one morning, and told me he proposed to claim the
championry of England, being descended from the
eldest daughter of Ralph de Basset, who was champion
before the flood, or before the Conquest, I forget
which, whereas the Dymocks come only from the
second, and he added, " I did put in my claim at the
coronation of Queen Elizabeth." A gentleman who
was with me, and who did not understand the heraldic
tongue, hearing such a declaration from a very young
man, stared, and thought he was gone raving mad,
and I, who did understand him, am still not clear that
the gentleman was in the wrong.
As you allow me to fill my letters with any scraps

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 353
I can amass, I will tell your ladyship how I was struck
lately by a sentence of a negro. I was at Kingston,
with the sisters of Lord Milford, who are my relations,
and who have lately lost their very aged mother.
They have a favourite black, who has lived with them
a great many years, and is remarkably sensible. To
amuse Lady Phillips under a long illness, they had
read to her the account of the Pelew Islands. Some
body happened to say we were sending, or have just
sent a ship thither ; the black, who was in the room,
exclaimed, " Then there is an end of their happiness !"
What a satire on Europe,
A propos to scraps and fragments, madam ; part
of the " Memoires de St. Simon," which I have long
thirsted to see, is published, but has not yet arrived
here. Mrs. Damer could get but one copy at Paris,
and I have only had a glimpse 'of one volume out of
three, but, even there, I found at least two of Voltaire's
most remarkable anecdotes.
The Due de St. Simon was a favouriteTof the
Regent, but dying, his " Memoires " were seized, and
locked up at Versailles in the depdt de papiers. The
Due de Choiseul, qui osoit tout, had a copy taken, and
the duchess lent it to Madame du Deffand, who made
her promise I should see it at my next visit ; but the
Due's fall intervened, and Madame de Grammont per
suaded him it would be dangerous to let it be known
then that he had a copy, and I could not blame her.
Since that, the Duchesse d'Anville saw, probably, the
same copy, and made extracts, as others have from
VOL. II. A A

354 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
that or the original. I am not sure that the whole is
public, or will be, but a good deal is something. Finis
of my scraps and paper.

LETTER CCCXIX. Berkeley Square, Dec. 3, 1788.
I came to town but yesterday at two o'clock,
madam, when I found your ladyship's letter. I would
have answered it directly, but so many persons came
in, it was impossible.
You attributed my late silence, madam, to the right,
at least to the chief cause. Madness is too unpleasant a
subject to me who have undergone so much from it in
my nephew's case. I heartily pity all afflicted with, or
related to it.
It was besides, too serious a topic to handle, espe
cially under such perfect ignorance as mine. I have
not been in town but once or twice for a night or two.
At Twickenham I could hear nothing but the strangest
incoherent accounts. When here, the assertions were
more positive, yet only more discordant ; and I saw
nobody whose authority I could think better than from
second or third hands : and I did not choose to invali
date them more, as I should do by even repeating them
and removing them still farther from a source that
might not be pure.
Things now draw to a crisis, and every point will be
public, worth knowing certainly, for the events will

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 355
concern everybody, and indifference would be affected
at a moment so new. I, though so old, and as little
interested as any individual can be, do not pretend
to be incurious. Every eighty-eight seems to be a
favourite period with fate ; and when the club that
had recourse to Queen Elizabeth's 88, chose to go
two hundred years back for a companion to the
Revolution, they little thought that if they had waited
a month, they would have an era of their own to the
purpose. With such food for reflection or anticipation, one
can be in no want of matter : but I am too ancient to
tap what may almost be called a new reign, and of
which I am not likely to see much. To penetration I
never pretended ; nor to say truth, much believe in,
for this reason — the more intuitive any man's head, the
wiser he is deemed : now a wise man only calculates
from probabilities ; he does not condescend (nor would
be the shrewder for it) to estimate chance and follies,
which decide oftener than probability does. My fore
sight, if I gave it the rein, would not prognosticate
much felicity to the nation from so unexpected a
calamity, because I should not take uncertainty for a
stable of foundation, and hopes and fears do not form
an horizon of tranquillity. Interregnums have seldom
produced halcyon days ; yet I no more depend on his
toric precedent, than I do on sagacious foresight. I do
not know that there is a grain of good sense in all the
labyrinth of speculation in which I could wander, ex
cept in my steady opinion of our being exceedingly
A A 2

356 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
fortunate in the present embarrassed situation of
France. Monsieur Necker may, for ought I know, be
a dextrous financier — but he is no Richelieu — though
no bad politician neither, as far as confounding goes,
for the roll of questions he proposed to the notables
seems to have thrown open the gates to endless contro
versy and disputation, and to mean to set all the pro
vinces, all their towns, all the nobility, clergy, and
people together by the ears, before they can settle who
shall be les Etats; and thus he may convert a rebellion
into a civil war, which may save the prerogative at the
expense of the revenue, which one should have thought
would rather have been his object to procure and settle.
That is his affair — it is ours, whichever way they are
embroiled. To me it is private comfort, that all the
Machiavels and Machiavellesses of the present age, who
have sown war, have only reaped perplexity, disgrace,
and discomfiture. France bouleversed Holland and
was foiled : Caesar has been baffled by the Turks he
despised : Semiramis has drawn Sweden and Poland on
her shoulders : and Sweden is in danger at home.
" Tant mieux, tant mieux."
Lord Ossory, no doubt, will come, madam, and satisfy
your curiosity, if you can be content to wait for the
echo, which would surprise me. One always thinks,
when reading of any memorable period, how one should
like to have lived at the time. Surely so novel a crisis
as the present is of that complexion. Even if we are
temperate, it will be a singular moment. It certainly
is a grave one !

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 357

LETTER CCCXX. Berkeley Square, Dec. 26, 1788.
I must have been very presumptuous, madam, had
I expected your ladyship to bestow on me any minutes
of the very few hours you passed in town — indeed I
was not so unreasonable. Your dentist, I hope, was
successfully employed.
I am by no means expert, madam, at explaining ob
scurities. The passage you have sent me is probably
incorrectly printed, if not too carelessly written. It
perhaps alludes to Mahomet's first wife, Cadesha, who
became a proselyte to his revelations, and propagated
his gospel. She certainly bore to him none but alle
goric progeny. Or may the she wolf mean Mahomet's
own enthusiasm ? I only guess because you bid me —
not from ambition of making sense out of what I do
not understand.
I have been confined to my house for some days by
the worst cold and cough I ever had in my days. I
treat it as ill as possible, and do not give it a morsel ;
still it will not leave me. In revenge it will not let
me speak. My whole amusement, a woful one, has
been dipping into three volumes of the King of Prus
sia's letters to Voltaire. Worse stuff did I never behold!
so pedantic, so tiresomely flattering, so utterly void of
variety, with Apollon, Milton, and Newton in every
page, and such bushels of vile verses — oh ! I borrowed
and shall return them. It is to be hoped his memoirs

358 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
will make amends — but General Conway is reading
them himself, and could only lend me the correspond
ence. Lord Beauchamp has just called on me, and says the
King of Spain is dead. — I should be as glad to read
his letters as those of his " Soi-disant Philosophe de
Sans SoucV What contradictions are we, great mor
tals and little ! To be the rival of Alexander, and the
singe of the Marquis d' Argens and French academi
cians !
I will not plead my cold for the shortness of this,
madam, yet I assure you it makes it troublesome even
to write — but I really know nothing more than I have
told you, not even of politics (which you choose to
avoid), and which I never seek, and a dispute full as
little on any subject. Politics are to me but objects of
entertainment in their turn, like other transient occur
rences — but serious follies if they affect the good
humour of the person no ways concerned in them.
It would be droll indeed if your ladyship and I should
grow warm about them.

LETTER CCCXXI. Berkeley Square, Feb, 6, 1789.
I am sure, madam, the various reasons of my
silence will appear valid to you. For six weeks I was
confined by the worst cold and cough that I ever had
in my life, and so shattered and oppressed, that I sus
pected the latter at least would fix for its life and

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 359
mine, like an owl that resides and hoots in an old
ruin. — but it is gone. Then came the misfortune of
Miss Campbell's death, and I was shut up with Mr.
Conway and Lady Ailesbury. He bore it the worst
of the two at first, but has conquered himself; and
she is better within these two days.
For news I heard not a tittle but political, and
GUdipus himself could not have guessed what was true.
Every body that called on me, asserted something or
other on the best authority, and every other body that
came, contradicted his predecessor as positively on as
good authority ; and so between two stools my faith
remained just where it was. Thus I could not report
any thing that was party per pale, truth and false
hood, when I could not blazon either in its true
colours — were all these embargos not sufficient ? would
not you yourself, madam, impose silence on any body
that had a grain of modesty left, when you tell me
you have been reading old letters of mine to your
daughters and niece ? But alas ! it is too late to blush
through so many wrinkles ! nay, this very hour inflicts
threefold penance on me ! viz., what you have said ;
Bell's republication ; and Lady Craven's travels, where
I make one of the figurants. In truth and in very
sober truth I constantly lament having been born with
a propensity to writing, and still worse to publishing !
how many monuments of my folly will survive me !
one comfort is, that half the world seems to be as
foolish as I have been, and eyes will not be born in
plenty enough to read a thousandth part of what each

360 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
year produces : Nos numeri sumus, and i" shall be no
more distinguished than my spare form would be in a
living multitude.
For "Bell's Edition," I only am sorry for it as a repub
lication ; my epistle is the worst poem in the volume,
so I cannot complain of my company. I had no busi
ness to write verses, for I was not born a poet, whatever
my propensities were ; but Bell is a rascal, who at least
this way will get nothing by me. He cheated me lite
rally of above 500/. on my last volume of the " Anec
dotes of Painting," and now sets me at defiance because
he found I would not arrest him.
" Lady Craven's Travels" I received from Robson two
hours ago. Dodsley brought the MS. to me before I
came to town, but I positively refused to open it, though
he told me my name was mentioned in it several times ;
but I was conscious how grievous it would be to her
family and poor daughters, and therefore persisted in
having nothing to do with it. I own I have now impa
tiently cut the leaves in search of my own name, and
am delighted on finding it there but thrice, and only
by the initial letter. When I have the honour of see
ing your ladyship, I can tell you many collateral
circumstances ; but I will not put them on paper. I
fear she may come to wish, or should, that she had not
been born with a propensity to writing.
These questions I have answered readily, madam :
but about Calonne and La Motte I know nothing. They
are a species of outlaws for which I have no taste, nor
for their compeeress Madlle D'eon.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 361
I can as little satisfy your ladyship about the title
of Mr. Hayley's fourth play, which I totally forget. I
remember the scene lay at Gibraltar, and that the sub
ject was if possible more disgusting than that of the
" Mysterious Mother ;" and having no self-love for the
deformed offspring of other people, I never opened the
volume a second time.
Mr. Fox, I am told, is better, but I have seen nobody
that is particularly informed ; though my house is well
situated as a coffee-house, and I very seldom stir from
the bar in a morning, I have no intelligence but from
those who accidentally drop in, consequently my gazette
is commonly striped of two colours, as opposite as black
and white, and, if repeated, would sound like the cross-
readings from newspapers. Truth is said to lie at the
bottom of a well, to which I am sure at present there
are two buckets, which clash so much, that each brings
up as much mud as pure grain. If I do not sift them,
at least I do not retail one for the other.

LETTER CCCXXII. Berkeley Square, Feb. 10, 1789.
A truce, my good lady, with my perfections ! in
deed I have none, and when you compliment me with
any praises, you only make me cry, " Lord, have mercy,
can this mean me!" If you provoke me, I will write
such a just satire on myself, that you shall be ashamed
of ever saying a civil thing to me again. Nay, how the

362 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
deuce should I know myself, when you tell me of my
candour ; I, who have ever allowed that I am the most
prejudiced of mankind ! But do not mistake, madam;
it is not being candid, to have lived to be grown indif
ferent, which is the best chance that common sense has
for obtaining the casting vote in one's own privy coun
cil. I must again, too, remonstrate against your shewing
my letters ; ay, for your own sake, if you desire they
should be natural, and unreserved. Is it possible to be
unaffected, when one knows one is to undergo an ordeal
of eyes ? Whatever interferes with one's writing, as if
tSte-d-tSte with one's correspondent, must destroy the
ease of letters ; and who will dare to write any upper
most folly in the face of half-a-dozen inquisitors ! Your
ladyship is used to, and has tolerated my fooleries, and
to encourage me to continue them, you tell me Lord
Holland loves nonsense ; but ah ! madam, the nonsense
of one age is not the nonsense of another age ! I re
member the late Lord Leicester, who had formed a
galimatias that was much to the taste of his contem
poraries. He retired to Holkham for a few years, re
turned to town and to White's ; a new generation was
come forth, who stared and concluded he was super
annuated ; and he was forced to pack up his obsolete
phrases and antiquated humour and decamp again, to
rail at the dulness of the young men. Even wit has
its modes on which its success depends, as Sir W. Temple
observes of the old Earl of Norwich ; and who knows
but Lord Brudenel may cease to be laughed at in a
future reign ! Diogenes Laertius records many witti-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 363
cisms of the old philosophers, which would not raise a
smile now in the House of Commons, where our country-
gentlemen are no niggards of horse laughs at miserable
jokes. If, therefore, you hold out readers to me, it will
be such a terrorem, that I shall grow as stiff and formal
as her grace my neighbour Beaufort ; begin with hoping
you are well, and conclude with compliments to your
fireside and all friends, and tell you as news the prices
of commodities at Bearkey,
If you had not so dosed me, madam, with high-flown
panegyric, I doubt I should have been flattered by Lord
Holland's approbation ; but now I dare not listen to the
charmer, charm he ever so Wisely ; nay, I am almost
afraid of commending his very pretty easy verses, lest I
should seem to connive at a mart of flattery. I have
one set of royal and noble authors left, which shall be
at his lordship's command when you tell me whither to
direct them.
I am a little surprised, I confess, at your ladyship's
finding it laborious to finish Mr. Gibbon, especially the
last volume, which I own, too, delighted me the most
— perhaps because I was best acquainted with the sub
jects of it. In the other volumes I was a little con
founded by his leaping backwards and forwards, and I
could not recollect all those faineant emperors of Con
stantinople, who come again and again, like the same
ships in a moving picture. How he could traverse such
acres of ill-written histories, even to collect such a
great work, astonishes me. I am reading as multifa
rious a collection, but by no means with the same

364 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
alacrity, the " Anacharsis" of the Abbe* Barthelemy, four
most corpulent quartos, into which he has amassed, and
indeed very ingeniously arranged, every passage I be
lieve (for aught I know) that is extant in any Greek or
Latin author, which gives any account of Greece and
all and every part of it ; but, alas ! I have not yet
waded through the second volume, a sure sign that the
appetite of my eyes is decayed. I can read now but
for amusement. It is not at all necessary to improve
oneself for the next world, especially as one's knowledge
will probably not prove standard there. The Abbe" is
besides a little too partial to the Grecian accounts of
their own virtues ; and as M. Pauw and Dr. Gillies have
lately unhinged their scale of merits, a rehabilitation is
no business of mine.
I must not finish without thanking your ladyship
for sending me Les amusemens des eaux d Ampthill: I
could return nothing but accounts of political hostili
ties, in which I hear our Amazons take a very con
siderable part. Lady Craven, I believe, will scarce
make the impression that might be expected from so
rash a publication, as she has not a word on the pre
sent crisis.
P.S. I am dull, and cannot guess the charades.

LETTER CCCXXHI.

Berkeley Square, Feb. 24, 1789.
The character that has been given to you of the
abbess book is very just^ and it is extremely well

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 365
described by a Mosaic composed all of bits of truth ;
but alas ! the pavement is a fiction, and not slippery
enough to make me slide over it : it is, as Mrs. Damer
says, a vision, a dream about truths ; in short, it is, an
excellent work for a man of twenty-five, just fresh from
the classics, and would range them most compendiously
in his head, and he would know where to find any
parcel he should want on occasion ; but for me, I have
not been able to wade to the end of the second vo
lume. I cannot gulp again the reveries of the old
philosophers on the origin of the world, and still less
the foolish romances of Herodotus, such as that of the
patriotic courtier who cut off his own nose and ears in
order to betray Babylon to Darius. Iron tears may
fall down Pluto's cheek when he sees Nebuchadnezzar
come to himself ; yet even that I should not believe at
the distance of two thousand years ! Then, having
just read Dr. Gillies and Mr. Pauw, I cannot for the
life of me admire the Lacedemonians again, nor listen
gravely to the legend of Lycurgus, when Mr. Pauw has
proved it very doubtful whether any such personage
existed; if there did, he only refined savages into
greater barbarism. I will tell your ladyship an addi
tional observation that I made just as I broke off with
" Anacharsis." We are told that Lycurgus allowed theft
and enjoined community of goods. I beg to know
where was the use of stealing where there was no indi
vidual property ? Does stealth consist in filching what
is your own as much as any other man's ? It would
be like Mr. Cumberland, who steals from himself.

366 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE Wednesday.
I had written thus far yesterday morning in answer
to a scrap that I had just received from your ladyship
with the query about " Anacharsis," and then I had
visits till three, and then I was obliged to dress and go
and leave my name for the houses of Edgcumbe and
Hobart on their union. When I came home to dinner,
I found your longer letter, which had been outstripped
by its postscript, and it was then too late to save the
post without burning my mouth from haste, for I am
so antiquated as still to dine at four when I can, though
frequently prevented, as many are so good as to call on
me at that hour, because it is too soon for them to go
home and dress so early in the morning.
I did not intend to say a syllable on the King's
recovery, as I have nothing but the crumbs which I
pick up from those who go every morning to receive
their daily faith from the Lord of the bedchamber at
St. James's. I am still less qualified to answer, when
you ask me where is Truth ? I reply, how should I
know it, even if I could tell where it is ? when Pilate
asked what it was, I do not find that he was informed.
Dr. Beattie may know better, perhaps.
Whatever be the King's case, he is to be pitied —
yes, whether he is to be produced, conscious of what
has been his situation, or capable of business, yet to be
told he must not risk engaging in it, or whether he is
to be precipitated back, by undertaking it. Nor is
the nation quite undeserving compassion, if it is to be
subjected to the freaks of a head that has lost its poize,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 367
Or to those who insist on reigning for him. With such
gleams or phantoms of foresight, I cannot much dissent
from your ladyship's apprehension of storms .• yet I
will hope we shall realize no old prophecies. What
the one you refer to was, I do not at all recollect ; but
it sounds something like Nixon's, an old Cheshire pre
diction, that I have lived to see revived and stillborn
again two or three times, as often as the Jacobites were
meditating or reviving rebellion. I heard it first when
I was at school, and it frightened me terribly. We were
to swim in blood up to our chins in the time of George
the son of George ; which circumstance looked exceed
ingly probable ; and does again with equal or no more
probability. A miller with two thumbs (a wonderfully
striking phenomenon, though I do not remember its
being specified that both were to be on the same hand,
though one devoutly concluded so) was to set all to
rights again, and such a marvellous miller was said to
exist — but enough of these fooleries. If the cloud
bursts, it is most likely to fall on the west, whence the
viceroy has refused to send over the votes of both
houses, offering the regency to the prince — and yester
day there was a rumour of his vice-majesty's being
impeached there — which I do not warrant. Nay, I do
not know what the English senate is doing, or putting
off to- day.
I am sorry my noble authoress's travels do not please
you, madam ; in truth, I fear they will add more to
her present celebrity than to her future renown. I even
doubt whether she would not have been turned into a

368 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
laurel as soon by running from Apollo (which was not
her turn), as by running to him. You have expressed
most happily the greater facility of whiffing gales than
of gathering flowers. A box of sumach from Ampthill
will be as precious to me as if it came from Serendip.
Of Mirabeau's book I have heard of nobody that has
got a copy here yet, but the Dutch minister, and he,
the first volume only. The papers to-day say it has
been burnt at Paris, which will make it —
" On wings of flames come flying all abroad."
The Duke of York, I am told, is not gently treated
in it.
There is another just or unjust volume that makes
its appearance, not composed of milk and honey : the
object Bishop Hurd ; the author Dr. Parr. The vehicle,
like his " Bellendenus," an old carriage on new wheels.
The title, " Tracts by a Warburtonian." It is despe
rately well written ; but probably not of the amusing
kind to your ladyship.
I would not interrupt my news, or rather, my
replies, and therefore delayed telling you that Tonton
is dead, and that I comfort myself : he was grown
stone deaf, and very nearly equally blind, and so weak
that, the two last days, he could not walk upstairs.
Happily, he had not suffered, and died close by my side
without a pang or a groan. I have had the satisfaction,
for my dear old friend's sake and his own, of having
nursed him up, by constant attention, to the age of
sixteen, yet always afraid of his surviving me, as it

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 369
was scarce possible he could meet a third person who
would study his happiness equally. I sent him to
Strawberry, and went thither on Sunday to see him
buried behind the chapel, near Rosette. I shall miss
him greatly, and must not have another dog ; I am too
old, and should only breed it up to be unhappy, when
I am gone. My resource is in two marble kittens
that Mrs. Damer has given me, of her own work, and
which are so much alive that I talk to them, as I did
to poor Tonton ! if this is being superannuated, no
matter ; when dotage can amuse itself, it ceases to
be an evil. I fear, my marble playfellows are better
adapted to me, than I am to being your ladyship's
correspondent. P. S. As you wrote on both ends of your cover, I
had missed till this moment on putting up your letter,
the very kind things you say on Mr. Conway and Lady
Ailesbury, which I take as a great obligation to myself
too. He has conquered his concern when nothing hap
pens to strike on it particularly ; but Lady A. is not
well, and has not yielded to go anywhere but to Mrs.
Damer and her brother Lord Frederic ; but she sees
particular persons at home ; and if her health mends,
I hope will recover her spirits too — I wish I were as
sanguine about my niece, Lady Dysart, who, I fear, is
in a decay.
N.B. The nation, like a paroli at Faro, is gone to
sleep for another week ; and as the ministers have set
on the king, they will probably win.
VOL. II. B B

370 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCCXXIV.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 28, 1789.
You have overwhelmed me with confusion, madam.
I was aware of frequently sending you a sheet full of
nonsense, and I did know, too, that your ladyship kept
my letters ; and it was the conscience of the latter that
made me more ready to continue the former, as I trusted
that a multiplicity of follies would provoke yourself or
somebody else to throw them all into the fire ; but I
own I did not suspect that in so few years they would
become totally unintelligible, even to myself. The letter
you have sent me is so far from unravelling what you
alluded to, that I have not the smallest recollection of
the story, nor of what it referred to. I return it, not
as a preservative, but trusting that whoever finds it will
conclude that the writer of it, and I fear of many more
such rhapsodies, was lightheaded ; and if you have
patience to read such letters over again, Ora pro nobis,
for both of us, madam !
However, having at present a lucid interval, like my
betters, and naturally not loving a dispute, I shall agree
to all your ladyship's creeds in waiting. I will believe
that Cheltenham water, which is the most violent of all
lotions, and stronger than Madeira and Champagne,
which so many heads can bear with impunity, may de
range the intellects for four months, though it has never
overset for four-and-twenty hours the brains of so many
thousands as have drunk it for at least these hundred

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 371
years. I will believe that your ladyship believes that
you admire Mr. Pitt on all occasions, which is not extra
ordinary, as you are so apt always to think favourably
of great politicians ; and above all things, I rejoice on
the comfort you find in having your husband on one
side, and your two sons on the other, which must har
monize your mind ; and methinks you might extend that
satisfaction still farther. I cannot see the least reason
why his Majesty should relapse, even if he should re
turn to Cheltenham next summer, as he told Sir Joseph
Banks last Saturday (since his recovery) he intends.
I have even more faith in perfect recoveries than his
Majesty has, who has often declared he doubted of my
nephew's. Bless me, has not my nephew recovered
perfectly twice ! and the last time of his coming to that
perfection, did not he, in a week after Dr. Monro had
pronounced him sane, give the strongest proof of sound
intellects, by marching to Norwich at the head of the
Norfolk militia (which the King had commanded me to
prevent, and which I could not), and write in the orderly
book there, that if the French should land on any part
of the coast, the magistrates were to burn the suburbs
of that city, which would then be impregnable.
You see, madam, how accommodating my faith is !
It requires still less exertion to fit it to the prognostics
in your last. I did then foresee some hurlyburly ;
and the Marquis of Buckingham seems to have opened
a serious sluice ; and should he be supported in the
imperative mood that was so judiciously adopted at
the commencement of the American troubles, I should
B e2

372 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
not be surprised if the Irish were to weigh anchor and
sail into the Atlantic ocean of independence after the
Colonists ; and then the son, like his father George
Grenville, would have the honour of losing another
sovereignty ; or like the sage Due d'Olivares might
congratulate his master on a rebellion, which would
give him an opportunity of enslaving his own subjects.
If all this should happen, pray advertise me in time,
madam, that I may always admire the Marquis of
Buckingham too.
As you have made me ashamed of my foolish letters,
I will add no more to this, but a heap of thanks for
the portrait du Prince Allemand ; for your kind en
quiries about Lady Dysart, who has and deserves her
character and my full affection, and who, though much
better for this last week, I fear is in a declining state ;
and for the obliging offer of another dog — but against
that I most positively protest. My life is too far
wasted and too precarious to embark in any new care.
I have such a passion for dogs, that a favourite one is
a greater misery than pleasure, and to give me one is
to sow me with anxiety. I would as soon adopt
Mile. Fagnani.

LETTER CCCXXV.

Monday evening.
The coach did not deliver your ladyship's obliging
note till four o'clock this afternoon, when the post had
been gone out three hours, so I could only thank you

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 373
by to-morrow morning's coach, or you would be set out
for Ampthill.
I did, I own, hurt myself pretty much, madam, but
it was a mere muscular bruise. I sent for the apothe
cary as soon as you were gone, but with my gouticity
he would not venture to bleed me. He recommended
frequent repetitions of arquebusade, which have cer
tainly alleviated the pain, though he thinks it will
continue for a few days. As I did not break a rib, I
have only lost the two * that are gone to Yorkshire. —
Your ladyship's most obliged humble servant.

LETTER CCCXXVI. Strawberry Hill, July 1, 1789.
My fall, madam, did not deserve the kind atten
tion your ladyship has paid to it. By bathing my side
with arquebusade and camphire till I smelt like a gin-
shop, even the blackness is gone, and I have no pain
now but in my hay, which has been sopping these
twelve days. I am determined never to cut my grass
again till October, the only month whose honour one
can trust: June always ruins one in hay and coals : I
crouch every evening over the fire.
Madam, I know how to feel for you on the im
minent danger you are in from the princely visit to
Woburn. One great cause of my loyalty and legality
is a wish that the King may never die, lest, on a demise
* The Misses Berry.— En.

374 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
of the crown, Hampton Court should become the seat
of empire, and Strawberry Hill consequently grow
within the purlieus of the Court, which would be a
still worse grievance than the crowds that come to see
my house.
In what a combustion is France ! I understand
nothing I hear or read. Necker dismissed and re
called by the people ! I concluded that he had sown
the seeds of division in the States, in hopes of an ex
cuse for dissolving them after rashly recommending
them. Famine threatens them, too ; an Englishman
who came back a few days ago could not for any sum
purchase a morsel of white bread at Calais. We
have horse-room and cart-room for being as mad as
we please. Loutherbourg, the painter, is turned an
inspired physician, and has three thousand patients.
His sovereign panacea is barley-water. I believe it as
efficacious as mesmerism. Baron Swedenborg's disciples
multiply also — I am glad of it ; the more religions
and the more follies the better : they inveigle prose
lytes from one another. I used to be afraid of the
hosts of methodists, but mother-church is safe if there
is plenty of heresiarchs, and physicians pretend to a
vocation too. You see, madam, whatever you may
have thought, that I am a good subject and a good
Church-of-England-man. The fact is, all reformations
are experiments, and lejeu seldom vaut les chandelles.
If one could cure the world of being foolish, a, la bonne
heure; but to cure it of one folly is only making
room for another. If Luther could have foreseen the

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 375
bloodshed he should occasion, must he not have shud
dered ? He must have been better assured of his
mission than I believe he was, if he thought that to
save any million of souls he had a right to venture
the many hundred thousands of lives that were mas
sacred in consequence of his doctrines.
You did not probably expect, madam, that, in answer
to a howd'ye, I should talk to you about Luther ; but
I could not send a mere card of thanks in return, and
let my pen make up something like a letter as it could.
Nothing had happened within my beat, but the arrival
of Mrs. Jordan at the theatre at Richmond, which has
raised its character exceedingly : our Jews and Gen
tiles throng it. I have not been there, for, though I
think her perfect in her walk, I cannot sit through a
whole play ill performed to see her play, however
excellently, in such wretched farces as " The Romp," in
which I have seen her. The weather, indeed, tolerates
all winter diversions ; but then it is too cold to come
back between two and three miles in the rain. The
cuckoos, I believe, are still staying in town, for I have
heard but one since I came to Twickenham. Surely
it was some traveller that first propagated the idea of
summer, which never ripens here more than grapes,
unless in a hot-house. It struck me thirty years ago
that this is the most beautiful country when framed
and glazed, that is, when you look through a window
with a good fire behind you.
Pray, madam, send me an account of les amusemens
des eaux de Woburn, or rather, I suppose, des Vins.

376 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
How ancient Gertrude will regret not being there!
She would shew the brood mares to the young fillies,
though you will not.

LETTER CCCXXVII. Strawberry Hill, July 16, 1789.
As my own exchequer is empty, madam, I chose
to wait before I replied to your last, till I could offer
you something of another's coin. The inclosed copy of
verses pleased me so much, that, though not intended
for publication, I prevailed on the authoress, Miss
Hannah More, to allow me to take off a small number.
Though I am an old printer retired from business, one
cannot help now and then rubbing up one's old calling
to oblige a friend, and as your ladyship used to deal at
my shop, I thought it my duty to present you with
this small tribute in acknowledgment of former favours,
and hope you will receive it favourably from your
ancient tradesman. Perhaps you will smile at a
printer talking of his exchequer ; but as all orders
entrench on the style of those above them, while the
highest ranks sink so low that the King of France is a
bankrupt, I do not think it too assuming for an old
printer to talk of his till being at as low ebb as a
royal treasury.
It is a very truth that I have nothing to say. The
civil war in France does not proceed half fast enough
to supply correspondence ; and our own halcyon days

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 377
are most unfruitful of events. Lord and Lady Walde
grave have been with me for two days, and are going
to Scarborough : we had nothing but rain to talk on
and lament the whole time. "Bonner's Ghost" must
therefore supply the place of a letter, and I wish I
could often make such amends : your ladyship would
be a prodigious gainer, and so should I too : it would
be worth my while to keep shop in earnest, if I
could often have such wares to vend. I do think I
have some merit with that tiny commonwealth, that
proudly calls itself the republic of letters (and which,
like Cromwell's House of Lords, is often composed of
the dregs of the earth) for having, sometimes almost
by force, obtained for the public works of intrinsic
value or rarity. I shall sit mighty low on the bench
of authors ; but Kirgate and I shall not give place
to many printers in the offices of the Temple of Fame. 18th.
I have been disappointed of the completion of
" Bonner's Ghost," by my rolling press being out of
order, and was forced to send the whole impression
to town to have the copper -plate taken off. In the
meantime, the civil war in France, I find, has taken
gigantic steps, and is grown out of all proportion to
the size of a letter ; besides, I know nothing authentic,
nor can learn truth here. How strange it is to me to
have lived to see what I have seen ! sights that the
most microscopic eye of penetration could not have
discovered in embryo ! America lost and settled in a
republic, the Jesuits annihilated and convents abo-

378 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
lished by the House of Austria, all France enthusiastic
for liberty ! and in how few years since despotism had
been established there ! But I look on the present
revolution in that country as a temporary paroxysm
that will not last ; and I grieve for the calamities
which such violent transitions will inflict ! — but I will
not pretend to foretell, having nothing of the prophet
but ignorance, without the inspiration. At night.
Kirgate has brought the whole impression, and I
shall have the pleasure of sending your ladyship this
with a " Bonner's Ghost " to-morrow morning. I shall
carry the quota that Miss More has destined to the
Bishop of London to him on Monday morning, and
shall sit in Bonner's chair.

LETTER CCCXXVIII. Strawberry Hill, July 22, 1789.
My letter on Sunday passed your ladyship's in
the very town of Twickenham, and, I fear, without
making a bow to it ; however, it will make my apology
for not answering incontinently your quaere on the
identity of parts of " La Galene de l'Ancienne Cour,"
and " Les Memoires de St. Simon," which struck me
too. The case, I believe, was, that the Due de Choiseul,
while minister, had a copy of the latter made, which
I was promised by the duchesse I should read ; but
his fall intervened, and the Duchesse de Grammont, his

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 379
sister (which I could not blame), advised him not to
let me have it then, as his having ordered a transcript
for himself had been a pretty bold act, the MS. having
been seized and deposited with the state papers. On
the cessation of the persecution of Choiseul, he used
to lend the transcript to persons who visited him at
Chanteloup, and some of them, I have been told, made
extracts, which strayed into the book your ladyship
mentions. How the Dukes, either of St. Simon or Choiseul,
would stare at the present " Galerie de la Cour," and
the precipitate fall of the Bourbons ! I have not at all
digested my surprise ; but being very uncertain whether
a quarter of what I have heard here is true, I will not
make reflections blindfold, but will obey my old maxim,
wait for the echo; and as I conclude all France is gone
mad at once, because I know not how to believe that
a whole nation is come to its senses at once (which
is far more unprecedented), I propose to wait for a
reduplication of echoes ; and if I do not live to hear
the last, I shall not less expect that it will vary from
the present reverberation. Amongst other questions
which I am going to answer, you are pleased to kindly
ask, madam, how the late deluges, to which there is a
codicil at this moment, have agreed with me. Thank
you, astonishingly well ; I am better in health than I
have been these three years, and my sleep, my weather
glass, is but sounder and longer for going to bed half
an hour sooner than I used to do. Accordingly, seventy-
two is very grateful to the gout.

380 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
I did not see the verses in the "Morning Herald:"
they are an excellent parody, and I fancy I guess the
parodist. I return the letter with many thanks, too, and am
grateful to the gout, for, as it has preserved all my
teeth, though I am so old, I am in no danger, like Mr.
Layton, of being made secretary of state, were it even
as common in this country to choose great officers for
having lost their teeth, as for not having cut them. If
Mr. Layton is already disgraced, I suppose his Imperial
Majesty of Morocco repents, like his brother Louis, of
having employed a Protestant as his minister, who,
perhaps, had advised him to call an assembly of les
Etats d la f aeon de Barbarie Francoise. I am shocked
at the African cruelties exercised at Paris ! but sudden
and novel power is apt to be as tyrannous as the
veteran, and more too ; and nations may take violent
prejudices for and against their kings, and alternately,
without any cause obvious to the eye of a bystander.
I have certainly seen the most unfortunate of all
mothers upon earth, as soon as I could : it was not
a moment to neglect one for whom I have so much
regard. The blow was very near killing her. She is
but lately come to Twickenham, and looks as de
plorably as you may imagine, madam. Where the
wretched pair are, I know not. The wife, whose
patience and conduct have proved her a prodigy of
discretion, is gone to her father, and has a jointure
of 800/. a-year. Dreadful as her case is, still she is
the least to be pitied, for time may assuage her grief ;

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 381
and the esteem of the world will reward her inno
cence : but there being no resource for the guilty
pair, their miseries can only increase ; and, con
sequently, the mother must always suffer for what
they have brought on themselves, and to which she
can never be insensible.
I have answered your ladyship's interrogatories as
fully as I could, and will take my leave ; hoping you
admire " Bonner's Ghost," which will not lose any of
its beauties, even if you read it often.

LETTER CCCXXIX. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 4, 1789.
I have had my house so filled lately by detach
ments of my family, that I had not a moment's time
to answer your ladyship's last.
For myself, I can say that I am not glad, in your
ladyship's sense of the words, that Monsieur de la
Fayette governs France instead of their King ; nor
do my principles lead me at all to approve of govern
ment violently wrenched, or violently exercised by
anybody ; nor do I believe that Monsieur de la Fa
yette's government will be lasting. I still less like
liberty displayed by massacre, and without legal trials ;
and abhor the savage barbarity that the French have
always shewn on all commotions. The factions in the
reign of Charles VI, the St. Bartelemi, and the Ligue,

382 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
were all ferociously cruel ; and their bearing the heads
of those they have now murdered, in triumph, is of a
piece with their tearing the heart of the Marshal
d'Ancre with their teeth.
The Etats G6neraux are, in my opinion, the most
culpable. The King had restored their old constitu
tion, which all France had so idolized ; and he was
ready to amend that constitution. But the Etats,
with no sense, prudence, or temper, and who might
have obtained a good government, and perhaps per
manently, set out with such violence to overturn the
whole frame, without its being possible to replace it
at once with a sound model entirely new, and the
reverse of every law and custom of their whole coun
try, — have deposed not only their King, but, I should
think, their own authority ; for they are certainly now
trembling before the populace, and have let loose
havoc through every province, which sooner or later
will end in worse despotism than that they have de
molished. Weak their late monarch is, I have no
doubt, and irresolute ; but I cannot look on a king,
who offers to soften and meliorate a constitution, as
deserving to be compared with those princes, who
have encroached on the liberties of their people.
Give me leave to conclude this chapter, madam,
with observing, that acute as you intended your pre
sent of Monsieur de la Fayette to me for my hero, I
presume to think my principles as sound and as free
from prejudice, faction, and personality as those of
persons who, from pique to some, or partiality to

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 383
others, applaud or condemn, wholesale, whatever can
be wire-drawn into a kind of parallel.
It is out of respect that I have presumed to defend
myself, madam, against your sarcasm on Lord Ossory
and myself. When ladies are politicians, and love to
attack, like the unfortunate Camilla in Virgil, it is
irreverent not to skirmish with them a little. Lord
Ossory, like an ill-bred husband, is not so attentive,
but in silence, lets you ascribe to him what bad
notions you please ; but he is so temperate and rea
sonable, that I am persuaded his sentiments on French
politics are not very different from mine.
In one point I perfectly agree with your ladyship :
every morning when I wake, and France rushes on my
mind, I think I have been dreaming ; nor can I at once
conceive so total an inversion of a whole nation's cha
racter. Perhaps it is but a bloody fashion, momentary,
like their other modes ; and when they have deposed
their monarch, or worse, and committed ten thousand
outrages, they will rebound to loyalty, and out of peni
tence, confer on whoever shall be their king, unbounded
power of punishing their excesses.
I did see, and wondered, madam^ at the republication
of the long-forgotten verses on the three Vernons,*
printed so inaccurately, that I conclude somebody wrote
them down by memory ; for both sense or metre is
destroyed in two or three places. Now, of such idle
trifles, the greatest merit is to be correct ; but every
author, however averse to pretensions, exposes himself
* The Three Graces before mentioned. — En.

384 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
to being exhibited in still worse colours than he de
serves ; which is one of the many reasons that makes
me regret having been of the calling.
General Fitzwilliam is dead, after a dreadful series of
sufferings. He is worth 100,000/. ; 500/ a year he
leaves to his nephew the viscount ; 500/. a-piece to
Lord Dover, Lord Frederic Cavendish, Gen. Conway, and
the two Dorrels, gentlemen of Richmond, his neigh
bours : near 300/ a year to his late wife's woman, a
very meritorious servant. All the rest as residuary
legatee, to his own gentleman, who had no less merit —
yet 45,000/., the lowest computation of the bequest, is
a prodigious recompense. My neighbour Lady Charle
ville, very rich, too, has left a more palatable will, and
left various legacies and annuities, the latter all to
centre in her heir-at-law ; but I scarce know the lega
tees even by name. Mrs. Greville t is dead, too, in this
district, who, I believe, had little to leave ; I do not
know whether even any poetry.
P.S. — I forgot in my last to mention an observation
that struck me on reading the excellent parody on
some lines of Pope which your ladyship sent me. It
was, that in the original chiefs out of war is not
English, nor would be intelligible without the conclu
sion of the line, statesmen out of place, which tells
one that he meant chiefs out of employment.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 385

LETTER CCCXXX. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 14, 1789.
Though I know your ladyship and Lord Ossory
were prepared and expected the misfortune which the
papers tell me has happened, I cannot help expressing
the part I take in your loss of so very amiable and
deserving a person as Lady Lansdowne. I am even
more sensible to it, as I dread a similar misfortune in
one, I may venture to say of as excellent qualities and
disposition, my niece, Lady Dysart, whose case flattered
us a little in the spring ; but she has lately grown so
much worse again, that I fear her duration will be
short. I say no more, for time only, not words, can soften
such afflictions, nor can any consolations be suggested,
that do not more immediately occur to the persons
afflicted. To moralize can comfort those only who do
not want to be comforted.

LETTER CCCXXXI. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 23, 1789.
I have not been able to obey your ladyship in
trying to amuse Lord Ossory. I have seen, heard, or
know nothing entertaining. From my own windows I
see the tall avenues and chimneys of Ham House,
where my poor niece lies languishing and dying. She
VOL. n. c c

386 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
still is carried to air, and said to me two days ago,
" I am not afraid now of crossing Kingston Bridge
(which is very ruinous) I am too far gone myself!"
This is not a theme to enliven anybody, and I will
drop it.
Joyous I know nothing, but the prosperity of the
harvest, which is favourable, indeed, and will ease the
poor. Comparison, too, must make us happy, when such
desolation has spread over the Continent. If we have
the sense to preserve our tranquillity, what a moment
for us ! In the midst of the horrors one reads from
France I could but smile at one paragraph. An Abbe"
de Sieyes excuses himself to the Etats from accepting
the post of speaker, as he is busy in forming a Bill of
Rights and a new Constitution. One would think, he
was writing a prologue to a new play ! We have one
monster who is groaning to create as much anarchy,
that he too, I suppose, may form a new constitution !
There has been in the papers a pathetic lamentation
that Lord George Gordon is still in durance ! So are
the tigers and hyasna in the Tower, and I hope his
lordship will not find bail before they do !
Richmond is in the first request this summer. Mrs.
Bouverie is settled there with a large court. The
Sheridans are there, too, and the Bunburys. I have
been once with the first ; with the others I am not ac
quainted. I go once or twice a week to George Selwyn
late in the evening, when he comes in from walking,
about as often to Mrs. Ellis here, and to Lady Cecilia
at Hampton ; but all together cannot contribute to an

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 387
entertaining letter, and it is odd to say that though
my house is all the morning full of company, nobody
lives so much alone. I have already this season had
between seventy and fourscore companies to see my
house ; and half my time passes in writing tickets or
excuses. I wish I could think as an old sexton did at
King's College. One of the fellows told him he must
get a great deal of money by shewing it : " Oh, no !
master," replied he, "everybody has seen it now."
My companies, it seems, are more prolific, and every
set begets one or two more.
These are miserable scraps to send you, madam ; but
I have no better, and cannot spin out of myself. I
had rather be insipid, too, than fancy I can amuse
when I have really nothing to say. Lord Ossory
knows my zeal, and how glad I should be to divert
him if I could.

LETTER CCCXXXII. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 13, 1789.
Lady Dysart, indeed, madam, was an excellent
person, and I have reason to lament her, and thank
your ladyship much for your condolence. I had long
known her doom was certain. She was convinced
of it herself, was impatient for it, though calm and
resigned to the last. Her lord is much more afflicted
than I thought him capable of being ; but the person
who felt it most deeply is the Duchess of Gloucester.
They had been dear friends from their infancy. Both
cc 2

388 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
she and Mrs. Keppel sat by the corpse the next morn
ing for two hours, for which I was very sorry ; but I
will not tire your ladyship with family stories, though
I have nothing else to tell you, having scarce seen any
body lately but my relations.
I am very glad you are out of pain about Lady
Ravensworth. I hope she will be preserved as long as
Lady Albemarle, who, at eighty-six, has recovered of a
thrush, and has her senses and spirits as well as ever.
I seem to have some grains of immortality too, for the
night before last, going into a stone-hall at Hampton
Court, a very low step, that I did not perceive in the
dusk, tripped me up, and gave me a worse fall than I
had when your ladyship did me the honour of dining
here this summer. I fell headlong at once on the
stones, and against the leg of a table, bruised one of
my fingers, both knees and an elbow, and battered
my hip so much that it has a patch as large as the
crown of a hat, and as black ; but there again my
featherhood saved me, and I did not break one of
my straw-bones. You see, madam, to what your old
gazetteer is dwindled, when he has nothing but his
own mishaps to relate ! You might as well correspond
with the apothecary of an almshouse ; however, I was
not overturned with a young prince coming from races,
like that stripling Lord Clermont. The world, not
withstanding my unbudging quietness, has sent me, I
am told, on a party of pleasure to Coomb Bank, and
furnished me with fifty qualifications and graces that
never accompanied me in my best days. I had flat-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 389
tered myself, that to do nothing was the best nostrum
for having nothing said of one ; but I see anybody
may be taxed to contribute a paragraph. Mercy on
us ! what idle folk there must be, when it is neces
sary to feed them with such daily bread ! Surely no
other age ever lived on such insipid fare ! Tout horses
as they were, how the Houyhnhnms would have stared if
they had been told, that in a certain country there
were Daily Courants to inform the public of what every
old strulbrug was not doing. Pope's Memoirs of P.
P., or the Importance of a Man to himself, is mode
rate in comparison of the importance of nobody to
everybody. Is not this the season for Farming-Woods, madam ?
I wish Lord Ossory great sport ! The despotic mob at
Paris, as the rule of contraries is the first law of a
revolution, have made such a massacre of game d la
ronde, that pheasants are sold at a penny a-piece. I
doubt, from the present turbulence of France, you will
have no " Memoires de St. Simon," nor " Lettres de
la Duchesse d'Orleans" to carry in the chaise with
you. A propos, here is a paragraph verbatim that I found
t'other day in the first volume, p. 260, in an old publi
cation of the Abbe Raynal, called " Anecdotes His-
toriques, Militaires, et Politiques de I'Europe depuis
l'EleVation de Charles Quint, &c, jusqu'au Traite* d'Aix
la Chapelle en 1748," published in 1753.
" Le Dauphin paroissoit ne" pour gouverner agreable-
ment une monarchic paisible. Le Due d'Orleans avait

390 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
tout ce qu'il falloit pour la troubler, y allumer des
guerres civiles, et y causer peut-etre des Revolutions."
This after-birth of a miscarriage, for" that Duke of
Orleans, the younger son of Francis I., died without
doing any thing, has revived in the person of a pro
phecy. — Adieu, Madam.

LETTER CCCXXXIII. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 26, 1789.
My excuse for not answering your ladyship's two
letters directly, is, that I have been at Park Place, and
they waited for me here. This little expedition proves
that I have quite recovered of my tumble, of which
only a large black mark remains down my side. You
are very kind to caution me, but in truth my two
late falls have made me so timorous, that I tread with
as much awe as if I were to step over nine hot plough
shares. I am much obliged too for your French anecdotes,
madam, which I had not heard. All their proceedings
appear to me shocking or absurd to a degree. I do
not guess on what grounds Mr. Wyndham foretells
their success. I had been told that he thought their
debates ridiculous, but a prophet has more strings to
his bow than one who only forms his opinion by a
small share of common sense. Not that I pretend to
any sagacity, which must often be at a fault, for it
calculates only by probabilities and experience, and

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 391
cannot take into its account folly and chance, the two
principal arbiters of human affairs; but what does Mr.
Wyndham mean by success ? Is the whole kingdom of
France to remain always in such blessed liberty, that
every individual is to murder, plunder, and trample on
every law ? Or out of this lawless and savage scene is
order, justice, and temper to arise ? Nay, when some
constitution is voted, will it take place ? and if it does,
how long will be its duration ? Will a new Assembly
of Etats, elected every two years, corroborate the or
dinances of their predecessors ? Will they not think
themselves as wise, and prove as foolish ? What an
absurdity is it not to strip the King of all his power,
and yet maintain that it is necessary by the laws that
he should assent to every act of violence they pass
against him? And compelled, will he think himself
bound by that forced assent ? Is it not, if possible,
still more outrageous, and before they have settled
anything at home, to be debating whether they shall
allow the King of Spain any future claim to the
crown ? In short, they have launched into an ocean of
questions that would take a century to discuss, and
suppose that a mob of prating legislators, under the
rod of the mob of Paris, and questionable by every
tumultuous congregation in the provinces, are an all-
powerful senate, and may give laws to other kingdoms
as well as to their own ; though I do not find that ces
messieurs can command 20,000 men, and must already
have provoked, as they have injured, a very con
siderable part of their own countrymen. In, the midst

392 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
of this anarchy, is it not supremely ridiculous to hear
of a young gentlewoman presenting her watch to the na
tional fund; and a lifeguardsman five-and-twenty livres?
Nay, there are some tradesmen's wives appointed com
missioners for receiving such patriotic oblations! — In a
word, madam, it is a vertigo of pedantry, and I am sur
prised they have not yet begun to make songs and epi
grams on themselves ! But so much do I differ from
Mr. Wyndham, that I think they have lost a glorious
moment for obtaining a considerable amendment of
their constitution, and perhaps a lasting one, by their
intemperance ; and that they have either entailed
endless civil wars on, perhaps, a division of their
country, or will sink under worse despotism than what
they have shaken off. To turn a whole nation loose
from all restraint ; and tell them that every man has
. a right to be his own king, is not a very sage way
for preparing them to receive a new code, which must
curtail that boundless prerogative of free will, and
probably was not the first lesson given on the original
institution of government. The present host of law
givers must, I doubt, cut the throats of half their
pupils, before they persuade the other half to go to
school again to any regular system.
I would not be uncharitable, but methinks Mon
sieur Necker's magnificence towards Madame de Polig-
nac, looks a little as if he did not think the queen's
influence entirely cut up by the roots. Her mockery,
however, is not very captivating.
Madame de Boufflers and the Comtesse Emilie, her

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 393
daughter-in-law, I hear, are come to London; and
Woronzow, the Russian minister, who has a house at
Richmond, is to lend it to her for the winter, as her
fortune has received some considerable blow in the
present commotions. I pity her much more than the
Dame de Polignac, as she could have no hand in
causing the grievances, or in the tempestuous correc
tion of them.
I have had no royal visit from Richmond, madam.
The Duke of Clarence, no wonder at his age, is already
weary of a house in the middle of a village with
nothing but a green short apron to the river, a situa
tion only fit for an old gentlewoman who has put out
her knee-pans and loves cards. The prince has taken
a somewhat better place at Roehampton, and enters
upon it at Christmas.
My Straw-Berries are not yet returned, but I expect
them next week, and have found a house for them at
Teddington very near me.
I am sorry to tell your ladyship, if you do not
know it, that Lord Waldegrave is ill of the jaundice at
Lord Aylesford's, in Warwickshire. He is rather better
than he was, but I believe it is a disorder never cured
expeditiously ; I am sure not so soon as I wish, who
interest myself exceedingly about him.
You go later to your forest, madam, I think, than you
used to do. "Did your Parisian intelligencer inform
you that in the present reign of everybody there has
been such a massacre of all game, that pheasants are
sold for a penny a piece ? I never admired game acts,

394 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
but I do not wish to see guns in the hands of all the
world, for there are other ferae naturae besides hares
and partridges ; and when all Europe is admiring and
citing our constitution, I am for, preserving it where it
is. The decry of prerogative on the continent is a
good counter-security to us; I do not think the sea
son will invite anybody to encroach on liberty; and I
hope liberty will be content to sit under her own vine
and fig-tree, and receive the advantages that France is
flinging into her lap.
" Quod optanti divum promittere nemo
Auderet, volvendo Dies en attulit ultro !"
If you pretend not to understand this passage,
madam, Lord Ossory will construe it, or if he is
abroad shooting, Virgil only means that no speculating
banker in England would have dared to bet that our
stocks would ever rise to 80 by an influx of French
money. P.S. — I own I shall be curious to see the new con
stitution of France when it shall be formed, if formed
it can be. It must be a curious patchwork composed
from sudden and unconnected motions, started in a
hurlyburly of disputes, without any plan or system,
and voted as fluctuating interests and passions pre
ponderate, sometimes one way, sometimes another,
with no harmony in the compost, but calculated to
contradict every view of the old government, — or
secretly to preserve enough of it to counteract the
new. Nay, such a total subversion annihilates all the
lawyers as well as all the laws of the kingdom. The

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 395
professors may now literally burn their books, for
which of them can they quote ? This idea might be
extended in infinitum.

LETTER CCCXXXIV. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 9, 1789.
My letters, madam, except when they ought to
hasten with my thanks for any new mark of your
goodness, may flit backwards and forwards as often,
and for as long as they please. They contain no
novelty, and, like ugly persons, will not grow the
worse for their age. Years and frequent confinement
have thrown me so beside the current of society, that
I wonder you have still patience with my corre
spondence. I have now been pinioned to my couch
for a fortnight by the gout again, and am still carried
thence to my bed by two servants. My fits are
certainly very short, and attended by little pain ; but
they return so frequently, that they rather give me
holidays than intervals. This is the fifth attach in
twenty months. Still, I am quite content : — I do
not wish to be at races or watering-places.
I am sorry your ladyship has lost an opportunity
of being acquainted with Mrs. Allanson (the husband
I never saw). She has great merit, sense, and spirit,
acquired all the good of her mistress, the learned
Aspasia, and none of her pretensions and affectations,
of which I doubt she was a little weary, though

396 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
nobody could behave with more respect and gratitude
for really great obligations. Aspasia has both know
ledge and wit, with many virtues, but, mercy on us !
they are both indefatigably for ever at one's service !
I allow all the merit of "Anacharsis," and do
believe your ladyship reads it ; but I know that its
great vogue at Paris, on its first appearance, was
during the first fortnight, when, to be sure, nobody
had got through thirty pages of the first volume. I
penetrated a great way, and though I was tired of
it, it was not from any faults I found ; but it did not
interest me in the least. Mrs. Damer is a convert,
and is now reading it. I broke off at the Lacede
monians, whom I abhor, though I allow the merit your
ladyship so justly admires in them, their brevity, and
which you still more justly apply in wishing it to the
Tiers Etat. Do you know, madam, that my dear old
friend, Madame du Defand, had a mortal aversion to
eloquence, though she herself, without knowing it, was
more naturally eloquent than anybody ? I doubt it
will lose its credit a little, and that the tongue will
not! be the arbiter at last of the destiny of France.
I see, in the papers, that the prelates of the Germanic
provinces absorbed by France, already murmur at
the freedoms taken with their privileges by the Etats.
For these three months I have thought it not unlike
ly that, considering the number of strong fortresses
round the circumference of France, some might be
seized by troops in different interests, and even some
provinces dismembered. It is more probable than,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 397
that the present chaos should subside into one re
gular compact government on a foundation totally
new. That (the division) would be more beneficial
to us and to Europe, than the conquest of it.
I was disgusted, like you, madam, at our panto
mimes of the horrors of the Bastille ; but they have
almost estranged my pity for the exiles, who can go
and view such sanguinary farces : without incredible
insensibility !
My neighbour, the Duke of Clarence, is so popular,
that if Richmond were a borough, and he had not
attained his title, but still retained his idea of stand
ing candidate, he would certainly be elected there.
He pays his bills regularly himself, locks up his doors
at night, that his servants may not stay out late, and
never drinks but a few glasses of wine. Though the
value of crowns is mightily fallen of late at market,
it looks as if his royal highness thought they were
still worth waiting for ; nay, it is said that he tells
his brothers that he shall be king before either — this
is fair at least. My last letter from Lady Walde
grave gave a better. Tuesday night, 13th.
I had just written the above words on Friday,
madam, when I was thunderstruck by a note from
the duchess, with an account of Lord Waldegrave's
extreme danger — I cannot describe the alarm it gave
me. My niece, too, being past her time, naturally
so tender and so nervous, and so wrapt up in her
lord — I expected to lose both at once ! Yesterday I

398 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
was relieved by a much more favourable account than
my best hopes could expect. His disorder has taken
a most promising turn, by a vast discharge of bile,
and all the letters speak of him as much better. Still
I dare not be too sanguine ; yet what a change from
concluding him gone !
I can say nothing on the atrocious accounts from
France, though the last accounts soften the first. One
pities the impatient indiscretion of the King and
Queen, but the treatment of them is unexampled !
What an odious cowardly nation, to let their prince
be seized and carried prisoner to his capital, with
the most insulting cruel triumph, by a rabble of
fish-women ! I could almost use the Billingsgate of
those furies to express scorn of their men ! — and, if
possible, my still greater contempt for their Etats,
who set out with assuming omnipotent power, and
are trampled into the dirt by oyster-women !
What becomes of their great air-balloon, Necker,
who has already broken several necks, and will soon
burst himself, and be the sport of winds? and why does
not Mademoiselle d'Eon return and put herself at the
head of the poissardes ? and carry over a code from
that Maccabee, Lord George Gordon ?
In short, is not France the most contemptible as
well as the most Iroquois of nations ? With any
sense and any temper the Etats might have obtained a
very reformed system of government : with none ready
they threw down the whole fabric, and thought that
the moment their tongues were loosened, they could

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 399
prate themselves into a monarchic republic in which
Le Roi was to intimidate all Europe, provided he was
the tool of Mirabeau and such scoundrels, and of a
parcel of abb^s and philosophers who thought they
could pick out a model from all the various visions
and controversies on Government, and that a nation
and all its laws, and all its debts could wait till they
had framed something on which no three of them
would have agreed. I maintain that pert pedantry is
the source of all their woes ! and has unchained their
natural insolent vindictive cruelty. They crouched
under Maupeou and the Abbe" Terray, who made the
late King an absolute despot, and they treat the pre
sent inoffensive poor man, as if he were a Louis Onze.
They massacred poor old Fbulon in the most savage
manner, while Calonne and the Archbishop of Sens
laugh at their rage : but did not they coolly gag and
butcher Lally, who, though a tyrant, like themselves,
had great merit towards his country ? The Duchess of
Polignac, whom I do not excuse, they would have
used, had she not escaped, as they did Brunehault and
Fredegonde, and as they did not use Isabel of Bavaria,
and Catherine of Medicis, who deserved no better, —
but at times they are as abject as at other times they
are merciless !
To me their great demerit is, that they disgrace the
cause of liberty. In this paroxysm of anarchy they
have murdered more persons without a shadow of trial,
and in eight months, than are executed by legal forms
at the instigation of a regular king in twenty years.

400 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
If liberty is not tried by its peers, what matters
whether there is one Nero, or a million ?

LETTER CCCXXXV. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 29, 1789.
I am not at peace enough, madam, to write much ;
yet, on the sole subject on which I can talk, it is a
little relief to speak to those who know and feel how
just my grief is ; and as I ought to acknowledge your
ladyship's and Lord Ossory's letters, I will tell you the
little I know. Lord Aylesford continued and does
continue to pay every mark of respect and attention
to dear Lord Waldegrave's memory and family. His
lordship and his brothers attended the burial last
Friday ; and his lordship has been so friendly as to
accept the guardianship of the children, so they will
not quite want a father !
Poor Lady Waldegrave is not yet brought to bed,
and they think will go a week longer still. I flatter
myself the respite is favourable, as she has passed the
first dreadful shock. Her command of herself is as
reasonable as can be desired for her safety ; to expect
more than resignation and patience would be irrational.
The duchess stays till her delivery, and is so charmed
with her melancholy submission to her fate, and with
her piety, and with the enchanting goodness of Lord
and Lady Aylesford, that in one of her letters to me
she says, in her usual expressive style, " In short, to

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 401
learn to live, or to learn to die, one must come to
Packington.* I will endeavour, madam, to imitate my nieces, and
act with some reason, that is, so far suspend my sor
row as not to make it a constant theme to others :
though a thousand reasons make it a loss to me that I
cannot cease to feel while I remain here ; but I will be
silent ! — Your ladyship's most devoted, &c.

LETTER CCCXXXVI.
Strawberry Hill, Sunday night, Nov. 8, 1789.
I have not yet received that essential consolation,
madam, of Lady Waldegrave's being safely delivered ;
and they even think she may go on a month longer — a
cruel suspense ! But the duchess says she is stronger,
and in no danger of not being able to go through her
labour ; but after the false hopes we had of her lord
for three days, I am daunted, and dare not be sanguine.
Your ladyship's letter, which I could not answer
then, was very judicious, indeed, on the French dis
tractions—distracted they really seem, and worse than
savages, for in a state of nature the hurt one man can
do to his neighbour is very limited ; but a whole nation
turned loose to their passions, with all the implements
of mischief that have been devised during the improve
ments of society, and groaning with resentments for
oppression, is a million of times worse. Still I can
* Lord Aylesford's house. — Ed.
VOL. II. D D

402 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
excuse the mob sooner than the Etats, who proceed in
rending all ties, and overturning all systems, without
repairing or replacing any ; and increase the confusion
by new demolitions, so that I am sometimes tempted to
refine so much as to suppose that the concealed friends
of the crown, the nobility and the church, encourage
the general extravagance in hopes that all orders but
the populace will unite, through interest and indigna
tion, to restore the old system. This would have some
meaning, though not easily put in practice, as the whole
army has been inspired with the same fury as the mob.
Perhaps I am too candid ; for the Etats set out so
foolishly, that I know not why I should suspect them of
any sense. Their early debate on the title of the King
of Spain to the crown, and their discussion on their
own king's style, were such characteristics of absurdity,
that it is too charitable to impute a grain of sense to
them. They might as well have agitated a question
whether Louis-Seize should be called Louis-le-Gros, or
Louis-le -Simple. One would think he had convoked
his heralds, not his Etats. What would Europe have
thought, if, when Sir E. Hawke burnt so many of their
men-of-war, the French academy had consulted how
their new ships should be christened ? That would
have been a puerility worthy of the Quarante, and a
theme for an epigram on them. The Jews, I see, have
addressed those sage legislators — I do not wonder —
They crucified their King, and called him, on his cross,
King of the Jews, not of Judaea ; and no doubt, if the
poissardes offered to deliver King Louis, the Hebrews

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 403
would cry out, "Not him, but Lord George Ba-
rabbas." I have still some acquaintance left in France for
whom I feel much ; some are come over or coming, as
Mesdames de Boufflers, and the Duchesse de Lauzun,
now Biron, and Madame de Cambis ; I have not yet
been able to go to them. There are some others who
only make me smile, or worse. One is an old Abbesse
de St. Antoine, sister of the Prince of Beauvau ; she
has sent her church-plate to the fund of contributions.
You will be diverted by a story I will tell you of her.
The last time I was in France, I went with Madame du
Deffand to sup at Roissi, Monsieur de Caraman's, whose
wife is sister of Madame de Cambis, and niece of the
Beauvaus. There we found that old St. Antoine, and
a nun instead of a pig. She had been at les eaux, and
then they may sleep at a relation's on the road. I
desired my dear old friend to present me to Madame
l'Abbesse, and tell her how good her parents the
Prince and Princesse de Craon had been to me formerly
at Florence. The old she-hog drew up with all the
pride of the House of Lorraine, of which she is a
spurious twig, and replied, " Je suis bien aise, monsieur,
que monsieur mon pdre (who was not her pdre) et
madame ma mdre ont eu — and then she paused —
l'avantage de connoitre monsieur." Madame du Deffand,
who could not bear her impertinence to me, cried
out, " Pardy, madame, vous auriez bien p4 dire
l'honneur." I have not " Anacharsis" here, madam, but I
D D 2

404 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
recollect that Arsame was a flattering picture of
Monsieur de Choiseul, who had great parts, and was
not a severe minister, but very daring, dashing, and
whose good nature would not have checked his
ambition from doing any splendid mischief, or from
spilling blood by battalions, though perhaps not by
a bason full. France owes much of its pecuniary
distresses to his waste and political intrigues. From
what an abyss have their extravagancies of all kinds
saved us, if we have the wisdom to profit of our
tranquillity and advantages ! Among the greater points
of security at home, of the safety of India, of our com
merce extending as theirs must languish, and of the
recovery of the empire of the ocean by the decay of
their marine, we ought to reckon not only the influx
of their money, but the retention of our own, which
used to be lavished so widely in France. I made a
random computation above twenty years ago (and
calculation is not my bright side) that the English
wasted annually in France above 500,000/. When I
was there in 1765, their late king said that by the
returns from Calais 40,000 English had passed through
there, though but two years after the peace : if half
were tradesmen, cooks, and barbers pour s'instruire,
not one went and returned for so little as five pounds.
Though that was a tide that had been dammed up, I
believe the emigrations of late years have been as
numerous. Two years ago there were above sixty
English families at Nice ; and a year ago there were
said to be 40,000 English in France and Lorraine —

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 405
numbers indeed from economy, but thrift itself does
not live in France on French money, nor on what it
proposes to save, nor is it easy to save, where every
thing is charged so high to a Milor Anglois. But I
shall drop wisdom and supputation, and return to
" Anacharsis." The Abbe" Barthelemy was devoted to the
Duchesse de Choiseul, and was always at Chanteloup,
and she had obtained two or three emoluments for him:
the incense to her husband, I believe, was offered in
compliment to her.
To divert my thoughts a little in the many melan
choly, lonely hours that I have passed in these three
months, and to turn them to the only reading I could
relish in the present position of Europe, modern his
tory, I have been reading again, as I have often done,
" Voltaire's Universal History." I suppose, from the
various circumstances that have struck me with regard
to the actual state of France, I admire it more than
ever, though I always thought it his chef daiuvre. It
is a marvellous mass both of genius and sagacity, and
the quintessence of political wisdom as well as of his
tory. Any one chapter on a single reign, as those of
Philip IL, Henry IV., Richelieu, Elizabeth, Cromwell,
is a complete picture of their characters and of their
times. Whatever may be said of his incorrectness in
some facts, his observations and inferences are always
just and profound. I wish you would read it again,
madam ; there are twenty passages that look as if
written within these six months. More than once he
allows the cruel nature of his countrymen in turbulent

406 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
times. The story of the whole modern world is com
prised in less space than that of the three centuries of
diminutive Greece in the tedious travels of Anacharsis,
who makes you remember rather than reflect. On the
other hand, I am sorry I cannot agree with your lady
ship ; Mr. Gibbon never tires me. He comprises a
vast body and period of history too ; however, I do
wish he had been as lucid as Voltaire, or to speak
more justly, that he had arranged his matter better,
for by vast leaps backwards and forwards, or by not
drawing nearer together contemporary times, you have
forgotten the personages to whom he returns ; but how
I run on ! I fear my confinement and solitude have
drawn me into trespassing on your ladyship's patience ;
luckily my small paper reminds me that a letter is
not a dissertation, though I doubt my close, little
hand sometimes sufficiently gratifies its propensity to
prattling, when it is in train. — Good night, madam.

LETTER CCCXXXVII. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 26, 1789.
I do not know in which of your palaces your
ladyship is resident at present ; but, not having men
tioned your return to Ampthill, I conclude you still in
Northamptonshire. If I mistake, it will not signify ; my
letter, if stale by taking a circuit, will be just the same,
for I have nothing fresh to tell you, madam, and only
answer a paragraph or two in your last, out of decorum.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 407
I said nothing of the Due d'Orleans, as knowing
nothing, and from not thinking him worth inquiry.
He appears to me like one of the two gentlemen who
often open the first scene of a French tragedy, and then
have no more part in the play. I have been twice in
town to see three of the refugees with whom I used to
live very much at Paris, the Comtesse de Boufflers, the
Duchess de Lauzun, now of Biron, and Madame de
Cambis. I cannot say that they once named their
princely ambassador. Madame de Boufflers has lost a
great part of her income, and is mortified, as she may
well be, at quitting her beautiful English pare at
Auteuil. Indeed, the horrors they all relate make one
abhor Lord Stanhope and his priestly firebrands who
would raise Presbyterian conflagrations here. One story
will touch you ; the little dauphin, who is but four years
old, and a beautiful child, was learning fables : the one
in waiting ended by saying of the animal that was the
subject of it, that, though she had had great misfor
tunes, she became at last heureuse comme des reines.
He said, " Hah ! toutes les reines ne sont pas heureuses,
car maman pleure depuis le matin jusqu'au soir."
It was said a year ago that a whole armoire of
Madame de Sevign^'s letters to a Monsieur de la
Grange had been found ; but I did not believe it, nor
have heard any more of them. I have two of her
original letters ; Lady Rivers brought me a long one
the last time she was in England, but it is one of the
printed. The other the Comte de Grave obtained for
me from Monsieur de Castellane, who married a grand-

408 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
daughter of Pauline ; but it is one of the very
larmoyantes, written at Nos Filles de St. Marie, on
one of the days of Madame de Grignan's departures.
I have, besides, an original letter of Madame de Main-
tenon, which was given to me at St. Cyr by one of the
nuns ; but I laid it up so carefully somewhere, that I
cannot find it. Monsieur de Grave is an exceedingly
good sort of man : he lodged at St. Joseph, in the
apartment above Madame du Deffand, and was very
intimate with her. It was he who went with me and
Mrs. Cholmondeley and another English lady to St. Cyr,
where we passed five hours, by permission of the Bishop
of Chartres, and I sat in the Maintenon's own seat,
during the mass, and afterwards heard the young
ladies pensioners act dialogues written for them by
their foundress, whom the abbess told me she remem
bered — but she seemed to remember nothing else !
Taylor's book was shewn to me this summer by one
of those wiseacres that call themselves learned men,
and who told me it was tremendous. I was neither
alarmed nor curious : yet, on your ladyship's notice, I
borrowed the " Monthly Review." and find that the
world's future religion is to be founded on a blundered
translation of an almost unintelligible commentator on
Plato. I guess, however, that the religion this new
apostle recommends is, not belief in the pantheon of
Pagan divinities, but the creed of the philosophers, who
really did not believe in their idols, but whose meta
physics were frequently as absurd ; and yet this half
witted Taylor prefers them to Bacon and Locke, who

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 409
were almost the first philosophers who introduced com
mon sense into their writings, and were as clear as
Plato was unintelligible — because he did not under
stand himself. Taylor will have no success ; not
because nonsense is not suited to making proselytes,
witness the Methodists, Moravians, Baron Swedenborg,
and Loutherbourg the painter ; but it should not be
learned nonsense, which only the literati think they un
derstand after long study. Absurdities, announced only
to the ear, and easily retained by the memory, have
other guess operation ; not that I have any objection
to Mr. Taylor's making proselytes — the more religions
the better. If we had but two in the island, they
would cut one another's throats for power. When
there is plenty of beliefs, the professors only gain
customers here and there from rival shops, and make
more controversies than converts.
Lady Waldegrave is not yet delivered, and her part
ing with the duchess, who left her last week, was a
great addition to her grief.
You order me to name my own health, and there
fore I do, madam. I am quite recovered ; and, having
just had a fit of the gout, I depend on its not return
ing and have ventured to stay here through all our
deluges, and have not suffered in the least. It is very
kind in your ladyship to make that inquiry, but I
cannot endure that jackanapes-paper the world, noti
fying so extremely an unimportant circumstance as my
recovery to so many persons who cannot possibly care
a straw about me. A clergyman last week brought me

410 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
three paragraphs that he had cut out of Worlds with
my name in them. Surely the writer might knock
down better game than an old valetudinarian sitting
quietly by his fire-side in the country, and who never
even sees his paper. It is very hard one may not be
superannuated when one pleases !

LETTER CCCXXXVIII. Strawberry Hill, Dec. 6, 1789,
I am afraid, madam, I can give but unsatisfactory
answers to most of your ladyship's questions, for my
memory is much upon its wane ; and my information is
very slender. Both the king and queen have been
extremely concerned for Lord Waldegrave ; and the
king, I believe, did defer giving away the regiment for
a month, that Lady Waldegrave might be benefited by
the delay. She was brought to bed of a daughter on
the 2nd, and I trust is in a good way.
My meaning about the Armada-tapestry, I suppose,
was, that the republic had more taste than James and
Charles, and hung it where it would often be seen : no
particular compliment could be meant to the House of
Lords, which was no longer a house of Lords then —
but I protest I cannot answer for what I said so long
ago, and which was not worth a thought since.
I can still less give a positive answer about Mad. de
Sevigne"s letter, but that it is what I told your lady
ship, a larmoyante one, and not about any duel. I

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 411
have entirely forgot how M. de Grave got it ; and am
quite ignorant whether the M. de Castellane whom I
knew, is living or not. He was not a descendant of
Pauline, but had married one. I never saw a picture
of Pauline, nor do I know who possesses her house or
Grignan. George Selwyn was at the latter, and has
told me to whom it belongs — but it is gone out of my
head. I did hear of Lord Orford's letters on astronomy in
a book of agriculture, but I have had too many de
plorable proofs of his lunacy, to be curious after more.
The print of Necker I return, madam, but I protest I
do not understand any part of it — however, I am not
sorry to see that even in such trumpery they imitate
us clumsily.
The Berrys are at Teddington, and it is on their
account that I have stayed here later than I ever did.
They go to town next week, and so shall I. I hope I
may not be quite so dry and dull there, as I am to
day — but if you had not ordered me to return the
print, I think I should have postponed my no answers
to your queries, for I am a total blank at present, and
know nothing to amuse you. Indeed no mortal is so
barren, when I have nothing at the point of my pen to
say — when I have, it gallops sufficiently.
George has called while I was writing, and says
Grignan belongs now to a Monsieur Dorliere — or did
before the Etats met —
" Hemp may grow now where Troy town stood ! "

412 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCCXXXIX.
Strawberry Hill, Dec. 12, 1789.
I give your ladyship abundant thanks for your
congratulations on Lady Waldegrave's delivery : she
and her little orphan are well, and I trust safe.
I return your ladyship the Herveyan letter, which is
a more proper word than frantic : it did not surprise
me at all : his father was always attempting to excite
compassion by the most virulent abuse on his nearest
relations. Besides, I have seen and received parallel
epistles. I had one a year and a half ago : I made no
answer, but told Mrs. E. Hervey, his mother's and his
most kind friend, that I could not refuse giving a little
money to a man of quality, with whose family I had
been so much acquainted all my life ; and did give her
five guineas for him. He, I know from Lady Ailesbury,
has grossly abused Mrs. E. Hervey since, to whom he
has had great obligations. He wrote to me again this
spring ; I threw his letter into the fire, and sent no
reply. I would not hinder Lord Ossory's charity, but
he certainly had better not write, for when a gentleman
can beg in that abject manner, he would probably
print the letter, like many of those worthless beings*
whose flattery and scurrility are employed indifferently
for half-a-crown.
I was in town on Wednesday, and was told that the
emperor had made a truce for two months with the
Flemings, which was likely to be followed by a peace.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 413
I am glad that they will be relieved, and that He is
baffled and mortified. There is as wide a difference
between Joseph and Louis, as between their present
situations. The latter, without being an aggressor, was
willing to amend a very bad government, and has been
treated like a Sicilian Dionysius, and has seen numbers
of his innocent subjects massacred, &c. Joseph, with
the flippancy of a French prater, has violated oaths and
laws, and plundered, in order to support an unjust war
of ambition, while he is the tool of the northern Semi-
ramis, whom I call by a name that sounds quite
Russian, Catharine Slay-Czar, — d propos, madam, have
you seen Mr. Cambridge's excellent verses, called " The
Progress of Liberty?" They were printed last Wed
nesday in a newspaper called " The Times," but there
ascribed to a young lady. They are as happy a com
position, in their way, as Bonner's Ghost.
Have you heard, too, that one of the wings of Hough
ton, not Houghton your cousin, is burnt down ? I know
not by what accident. I said, burnt down ; but stone
walls, and such walls, are not easily consumed. In my
father's time, one of the cellars was on fire, but only a
door was destroyed. As the gallery is burnt, the glo
rious pictures have escaped — or are reserved to be con
sumed in a wooden palace on the first revolution at
Petersburg. You will please, madam, to direct your next com
mands to Berkeley-square, whither I shall go on Tues
day for some time. — Yours, &c.

414 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCCXL.
Berkeley Square, Dec. 26, 1789.
End of an extraordinary year !
It is too late in the month, madam, to return your
Christmas wishes,, and too late in my life to repay your
most agreeable new-year's-gift of Lord Holland's verses,
which talk good sense with so much ease, that instead
of prophecying that he will be a poet, I will boldly
venture to foretell that he will be of a much higher
class, and will be worthy of his grandfather and uncle.
He cannot think half-a-quarter so well of me, if he
imagines that I cared a straw about a trumpery pane
of glass, that had actually been cracked and mended
before. — " The old man tells his story — "
but does not fret about a bit of painted glass, as Lord
Holland will find, if he will do me the honour of coming
again to Strawberry when I am there. He has made
himself free of my house as a noble author, though I
shall not live to record him.
Of the new noble authoress dowager I had not heard
a word ; be so good in your next, madam, to tell me if
her " Tractate" (as Milton called his, and which I sup
pose was a more severe institution than her ladyship's,)
is published, and by what title.
I did not know Mrs. Hervey 's new novel was pub
lished yet ; I saw it announced some time ago, but have

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 415
forgotten the title : it will keep cold. The former was
weU written, but the ideas very stale. I am tired of
books that add nothing new to the mass. I cannot say
the princes are like our novels : their behaviour, though
negative, has certainly introduced variety into manners.
" Nous avons change^ tout cela" is not very sage, when
Europe is so disposed to changer tout cela.
The town says, but I cannot believe it, that the Bra-
banters have offered their vacant coronet to the Bishop
of Osnaburg. Humphrey Duke of Gloucester espoused
Duchess Jacqueline, but neither kept her nor the duchy.
I have not looked on the map, but I think both Osna
burg and Hanover lie nearer to Vienna than Brabant.
It seems to me, too, that the right reverend father in
God has a better chance than he would have of remain
ing sovereign of Flanders ; for bouleverstes, as Flanders
and France are, our experience is not old enough yet to
convince me that the fermentation in either, especially
in the latter, will not have a notable revulsion. In
France it is a frenzy, which I believe will have the
same effect as in the human body — it will be cured or
make the patient destroy himself. Their government
was detestable, and might have been much corrected ;
but to dissolve all government, without the shadow of a
system ready to replace it, and to imagine that twenty-
four millions can be moulded into an entirely new con
stitution at once totally repugnant to every law that
had existed ; and that such bungling operators as, Messrs.
les Etats have shewn themselves, can tinker up by de
tached votes such a frame of legislation as will suit so

416 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
vast a kingdom, does not enter into my conception.
They have really pleased nobody internally but the
most ignorant and unhappy peasantry, who have been
let loose from all restraints, and in a manner instructed
to gratify their spleen. I pity them, who will probably
be exposed to the still worse excesses of an army with
out discipline and without pay. But what signify my
reveries ? I shall neither live to see them hatched nor
addled. Many happy new years to Ampthill, and a less un
happy one than the last half to — Yours, &c.

LETTER CCCXLI. Berkeley Square, Dec. 30, 1789.
Though I have nothing but thanks for Lord Hol
land's * verses to send you, madam, I must send them.
I am extremely pleased with his variety of metres,
and, if I may decide, prefer his heroics. If I may
criticize, his trochaics are not always perfect, now
and then wanting a syllable, as in "I resolve to
perform whatever 's my duty," and the next, and in
one or two others. I do not delight in that measure
but at least it should be complete to the ear. He
is excellent in rhymes, and so is Lord Ossory, too,
whose poetry I am very glad to have gained, by the
by. It is refreshing to read natural easy poetry, full
of sense and humour, instead of that unmeaning,
* The late Lord Holland, then a boy. — Ed.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 417
laboured, painted style, now in fashion, of the Delia
Cruscas and Co., of which it is impossible ever to
retain a couplet, no more than one could remember
how a string of emeralds and rubies were placed in a
necklace. Poetry has great merit, if it is the vehicle
and preservative of sense, but it is not to be taken in
change for it.
I do not, certainly, mean to pay Lord Holland for
his verses, by sending him my fourth volume, which,
though in prose, is no work of sense ; it is merely to
complete his set of a register ; and he shall have it, if
your ladyship will be so good as to tell me how to
convey it.
A knock at the door saves your ladyship and me
from adding any nonsense to my letter.

LETTER CCCXLII. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 30, 1790.
To be sure, I am glad you have been delighted
with your travels ; but lord ! madam, how could you
think (perhaps you did not think) of being pleased
with beauties and prospects at home ? Mr. Gilpin has
more taste ; he despised the richness, verdure, amenity
of Richmond Hill, when he had seen rocks and lakes
in the north; for size and distance of place add wonder
fully to loveliness. From your first letter, I had more
hopes of you : you were shocked at the rude mechanics,
who thrust their callous hands into Dame Nature's
VOL. II. e E

418 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
bosom, and tear away all her dugs to get at her iron
ribs, for the vile purposes of commerce and luxury; but
you have relapsed, and are enchanted with Wales, and
Chirk Castle, and twenty baubles, that everybody may
visit in a week's time, without risk, and without the
chance of a single hyaena running against your leg, as
you went to your lodging at night. Can you boast
of having discovered the source of the Dee or the
Severn, which was not achieved by all antiquity, nor
can be paralleled by all posterity, though the inha
bitants of all the Welsh counties, that is the Galla,
have, or may have seen those sources every day since
the beginning of time ? I will say no more on that
subject, madam, though I could write five volumes
in quarto to shew, by precedent, that you ought first
to have gone to Dover Castle or Fountains Abbey,
however far out of your way, and though you could
have said nothing new about them ; and to have given
an account of the trade of the Irish channel, before
you sought any river on this side of it.
I firmly believe all the beauties of Wales, and regret
having never seen them while I was able, especially
Picton Castle, the seat of my maternal ancestry, from
a window of which one of my grandsires, Sir Richard
Phillips, who was no taller than I am broad, was
dragged and made prisoner by a colonel of the re
publicans, while parleying about a surrender, when
besieged by them.
Of the charms of Chirk Castle, I never heard before ;
but how few have eyes ! and till somebody has, the

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 419
rest only look, till they have been taught to see, by
hearing others have seen. Of Nuneham, I doubt, you
were not half so fond as I am. It is not superb, but so
calm, riant, and comfortable, so live-at-able, one wakes
in a morning on such a whole picture of beauty !
Your ladyship's story of Mrs. Hodges rousing Lady
Ravensworth at midnight, to borrow a pack of cards,
reminds me of the Duke of Wharton, who knocked
up his guardian, whom he hated, in the middle of the
night, to borrow a pin ; but, pray, does she order
supper for six at Lady Ravensworth's, too ?
To Lady Ambrosia Sydney I am an utter stranger ;
I suppose she was not Sir Henry, but Sir Nectar
Sydney's daughter.
I am as little acquainted with Miss Ponsonby and
Miss Buttershaw ; I think I saw something in a news
paper about them, but I mind so little what I read
there, that it made no impression, nor did I recollect
to inquire ; so your ladyship has told me more than I
can possibly tell you of them. Are they relations of
her you call the beautiful Countess Talbot ?
Poor St. Winifrede and poor Wynnstay ! sic transit
gloria mundi, and of those who never were in mundo.
Who is it says, that crowned heads and cane heads
must equally come to the ground ? Sir Watkyn's father
was called Prince of Wales : the head of its last
sovereign did not come to the ground, but was fixed on
the rails of the Tower — the present era is preaching
moral lessons to all of the calling, and St. Winifrede is
lucky to be out of danger — 'tis well for her she is not
EE 2

420 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
at Avignon ! There are fresh horrors from that neigh
bourhood ; and Paris is in such a ferment that new
swarms of French are flocking hither ; but I have been
so ample in my answer to your ladyship's two enter
taining letters, that I have not left myself an inch of
paper to say more. Oh ! here is half of my paper that
I thought filled, untouched ! I perceive I had folded
it back as soon as I had written the first page ; and as
I wrote my letter late at night to be ready for our
early post next morning, I was half asleep, and dreamt
I had scribbled the whole sheet. Well, madam, all the
mishap will be, that you will have my news as dry as
a chip before you receive it.
At Marseilles — I think it was at Marseilles — a Mon
sieur Cazalet, and of his name I am not sure, to secure
himself (being known, I suppose, for no friend to the
Chaos), had just taken the civic oath, and thereupon
had been invited to dine with the maire ! On a sud
den they heard a violent clamour in the street, and,
opening the window, beheld a furious mob, who being
asked what they wanted, answered, "the head of
Cazalet." On that he was concealed ; but the savages
broke in, found him, dragged him down stairs by
his hair, and then by one leg through the streets, till
he lost his senses, when, putting a rope round his
neck, they were going to dispatch him; but two grena
diers, shocked at such barbarities, drew their sabres,
rescued the sufferer, kept off the ruffians, and conveyed
the poor martyr into a house : but he expired the
moment he arrived !

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 421
At Paris, I have told you, madam, confusion in
creases. A formal denunciation has been made to the
domineering tribunal against Necker, who is accused of
having advanced a million of livres to La Fayette, for
the purpose of exciting or promoting the revolt in
Brabant — how justly I know it — but when anarchy is
abroad, its centurions are not a whit more safe than
their antagonists. There is a sentence in Juvenal, that
Lord Ossory will translate, that comprises the whole
code of such times, "  Verso pollice vulgi
Quemlibet occidunt populariter — ¦"
What a nation are the French ! Sometimes carrying
slavery to idolatry of their tyrants ; sometimes gorging
their native insolence with all the extravagance of
cruelty !

LETTER CCCXLIII. Strawberry Hill, Deo. 1, 1790.
Indeed, my too indulgent lady, my letters are
written so idly, and filled with such trifles as occur, as
Arabian tales, &c, that they are very unfit to be seen
by any but yourselves, for whose amusement I send
them ; and being generally only answers to yours, they
must be Hebrew to anybody else. This is merely a
reply to your last. Madame de Sillery's protest against
the Monseigneur was no panic, but an emanation of
that poissarde cant that her recreant protector has

422 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
adopted. When the late emperor died, she forbade her
pupils to mourn for him. The Due de Chartres obeyed.
The Due de Montpensier, the second son, about seven
teen, would not, but bespoke a black coat. La
Gouvernante said to him, "quelle fantaisie est-ce cela?"
" Fantaisie !" cried the prince, " est-ce une fantaisie que
de vouloir porter le deuil de l'empereur ? " " Well
then ! " said the mock Minerva, " you shall have no
other coat till that is worn out." Would not one think
that the Due de Chartres was her son, and the two
others sprung from Henri Quatre by the Duchess of
Orleans ?
One word more about Mr. Burke's book : I know the
tirade on the Queen of France is condemned, and yet I
must avow I admire it much. It paints her exactly as
she appeared to me the first time I saw her when dau
phiness. She was going after the late king to chapel,
and shot through the room like an aerial being, all
brightness and grace, and without seeming to touch
earth — vera incessu patuit dea ! Had I Mr. Burke's
powers, I would have described her in his words. I
like " the swords leaping out of their scabbards ; " in
short, I am not more charmed with his wit and elo
quence, than with his enthusiasm. Every page shews
how sincerely he is in earnest — a wondrous merit in a
political pamphlet. All other party writers act zeal for
the public, but it never seems to flow from the heart.
That cordiality, like a phial of spirits, will pre
serve his book, when some of his doctrines would have
evaporated in fume. Lord Stanhope's were the ravings

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 423
of a lunatic, imagining he could set the world on fire
with phosphorus. Lord Lansdowne, I hear, said there
was some good sense in that rant. How fortunate that
Price and his adherents were intoxicated by their own
hopes, and flattered themselves that Europe was in so
combustible a temper, that by throwing their farthing
squibs from a pulpit, they should set even this country
in a blaze, and like the wretches hanged last week for
burning houses, should plunder some silver candlesticks
from the altars in our churches, to which the rights of
men entitle them. That proclamation of the " Rights
of Men," is ipso facto a dissolution of all society, into
which men entered for the defence of the rights of
every individual. The consequence of universal equa
lity would be, that the industrious only would labour,
the idle not. Who then would be to maintain the
inactive ? Must the produce of the labours of the
laborious be shared with the indolent ? Oh, but there
should be some government — then the governed would
not be equal with the governors; but it is idle to
confute nonsense ! All the blessed liberty the French
seemed to have gained is, that every man or woman, if
poissardes are women, may hang whom they please.
Dr. Price adopting such freedom, opened the nation's
eyes — Honi soit qui mal y pense !
P.S. — Your ladyship forgot to send me the solution
of the riddle.

424 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCCXLIV.
Strawberry Hill, Dec. 9, 1790.
Your ladyship has furnished me with so many
subjects, that I doubt whether I shall be able to crowd
my answers into a single sheet of my small paper. I may
branch into a pamphlet, while I am only replying to
what you have said to me ; but I must preface all by
imploring you not to exhibit my letters. Though I am
and must be proud of Lady Ravensworth's approbation
of my sentiments, for I should not be a mortal if I had
not a grain of vanity, nor should be believed if I de
nied it, for whoever has been imprudent enough to be
an author must have had some ; yet I am seriously in
earnest in begging you will not shew my letters. Foolish
as I have been in publishing anything, it is my sober
desire now not to have my name brought into ques
tion : I wish to pass my remnant of days forgotten
and in indolent quiet ; yet by having formerly com
mitted myself in public, the impertinent newspapers
bandy about my name, though I give not the smallest
handle for it : an instance you mention, madam, is a
proof. Mr. Burke ordered Dodsley to send me his
book, though I have not seen him three times in three
years. Good breeding obliged me to thank him, and
my real admiration called on me to avow it — yet, will
you believe me, madam ? what is now called a fine let
ter, I might safely swear, did not contain six lines ;
and all it said was, that unless I could write as well as

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 425
he does, I could not fully express my admiration, yet
did not doubt but he would have that of mankind. I
do not recollect the very words, but am sure that was
the whole substance, and am much mistaken if that
was a fine letter ; nor would it ever have entered into
my head, no, nor into vanity's own head, to talk of
such a simple compliment, — and yet I have been told
that it has been mentioned in a newspaper ! I cannot
suspect that Mr. Burke could think it worth his while
to taBr of such a natural civility ; but somebody might
be with him when he received it, and must have re
ported it, till it descended to the newspapers. Let me
intreat your ladyship not to contribute to my being
game for coffee-houses ; my vanity does not reach
jusque-ld. Alas ! if my preface has got over leaf, how
shall I keep the rest within any bounds !
I am not surprised at Mr. Fox or Mr. Fitzpatrick for
disliking the extent of Mr. Burke's notions : I should be
mortified if the former did not admire the composition,
and should readily distrust my own judgment, if the
latter_and Mr. Hare did not keep me in countenance.
The last, I have been told, says, that though he would
submit to Mr. Fox in everything else, he cannot give
up Mr. Burke's book. I, who have more reason to be
humble, and who certainly shall not set up my under
standing against one so superior as Mr. Fox's, cannot
help being rejoiced at its publication. Being a specu
lative and not a practical politician, my opinion may be
biased by outward circumstances. I acknowledge, too,
that I am apt to have strong prejudices both when I

426 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
like and dislike ; and, though time has worn them down
to at least a smoother surface, I believe that the wit
and eloquence of the work in question contributed to
enchant me. Yet I must persist, without any variation
in my principles, in applauding the publication at the
present moment, when Reformation is gone raving mad,
and, like Ceres, with blazing torches, would set fire to
and destroy all the harvests upon earth, because her
daughter's liberty had been ravished. Reformation,
which is everywhere perpetually wanted, is, I am
grieved to say, a most dangerous chief-justice, and
more apt to terminer than to oyer, and to commit more
spoil than the criminals it arrests. This is no novelty
of opinion in me. Thirty years ago I had a dispute
with Dame Macaulay on the same ground. I told her
it was a settled maxim of mine that no great country
was ever saved by good men, because good men will
not go the lengths that may be necessary. Was the
Revolution brought about by good men ? No, the best
patriots hesitated ; the worst, Lord Sunderland, did not
boggle — he pushed King James down the precipice. I
went farther ; I owned to her that I should always be
a coward about spilling the blood of others, and at this
moment mine recoils when I hear the advocates of the
French Etats cry, "a Revolution cannot be effected
without blood, and that in France has cost but little !"
My heavens ! who has a patent from above, and with
out law, to shed a drop ? In that case, I fear, the
forum conscientioe is a most wicked tribunal. I went
much farther, 1 remember with Mrs. Macaulay : I said,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 427
" Madam, had I been Luther, and could have known
(even if persuaded that I was right in my premises,
nay, had I even thought I was inspired), that for the
chance of saving millions of souls I should be the cause
of a million of lives, at least, being sacrificed before my
doctrines could be established, it must have been a
most palpable angel, and in a most heavenly livery, be
fore he should have set me to work." Thus I am but
uniform, not changed.
Another of my tenets, not a very practicable one,
is this : the excellence of our constitution consists in
the balance of the three powers. Unfortunately it is
the nature of a balance to fluctuate by a breath of air.
I have lived long enough to see King, Lords, Commons,
preponderate at different periods. The political rule
that I would wish always to see followed, should be,
that whenever any one of the three powers preponde
rates, the other two should join against and counteract
it. The first power has undoubtedly of late years been
the heaviest ; but that fourth power, that within
these two years has started out of the earth like the
black cloud in the " Arabian Nights," and which dis
persing, disclosed an infernal Afrite — that power does
not tend to balance, but overturn all three. Mr.
Burke, with Solomon's seal, has put the evil spirits to
flight; and though his talisman, I confess, will remain
and be serviceable to Pharoah's priests hereafter, I am
poor-spirited enough to comfort myself with the appear
ance of the lovely gaudy rainbow that promises me
security from the deluge I apprehended ; and I have

428 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
another comfort, which is, the shock lately given
through Europe to prerogative is a counter security to
liberty. Their Majesties will be content with what
prerogative they can preserve from the convulsion, and
not think of extending it for some years, unless the
ravage of anarchy in France drives three or four
of them to unite to suppress it, as they may do
now on the pacification of Brabant. I own I felt for
the latter, they were provoked by the despotism of the
late emperor ; and acted from better, though mistaken,
notions than the French, for the Flemings meant the
defence of their religion ; the French, though most in
tolerant, as Mr. Burke has shewn, have no religion at
all. This capital discordance between the two rebellions
may have very wholesome consequences. If the con
fusions in France are quelled by force, as I conclude
they will be, the present prosecution of the clergy
there would be likely to produce a full restoration of
the Papal system ; but that will be counterbalanced
by the late enthusiasm of the Flemings; but I am
running into speculations, which always contract a
propensity to prediction. I hope I have explained and
cleared my own principles ; with all my prejudices, I
have given proofs of moderation before. My own old
friends have blamed my tenderness to Lord Clarendon,
my palliation of Charles I. for his countenancing Lord
Glamorgan, and my doubting the disinterestedness of
Mr. Hampden. Perhaps it is no mighty crime not to
please either side, provided not a glimpse of self-inte
rest is the consequence, of which I hope I am clear ;

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 429
except that being by my station an aristocrat, and by
my father's goodness a placeman for life, I cannot wish
to be swept into the common sewers. I avow all, I
conceal nothing, but I maintain that I am not changed
in any principle ; yet, if one must make an option
between Mirabeau and Mr. Burke, I declare I am a
Burkist. There are a few other passages I wish to answer, but
my poor hand is so weary by writing all this in a
breath, that I must stop and cannot send it away
to-day. Friday, 10th.
I have seen good old Lord George and would have
persuaded him to read the pamphlet, which I acknow
ledged I admired, as I have to Mrs. Bouverie ; but did
not prevail. What your ladyship says of the authoresses
of your sex does not proceed from want of strength of
head, but from the rarity of grave discussions among
them. When they do inform themselves, they know
their acquisitions are uncommon, and it makes them
vain. I have seen it the case of great lawyers re
tired from business, who, having taken to reading the
classics, have quoted the commonplaces of Horace,
which an Etonian of twenty would blush to cite,
knowing all his contemporaries were as familiar with
them as he. I thank your ladyship for your impar
tiality in telling me of Lady Ravensworth's partiality
to my niece. I flatter myself she is not undeserving
of either, and wish she was so happy as to be equally
known to both !

430 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
LETTER CCCXLV.
Strawberry Hill, Thursday evening, Jan. 6, 1791.
I have been ill for three weeks, madam, with some
gout and a good deal of rheumatism, and this is the
first day in which I have been able to walk (with help)
from my bedchamber to the blue room : but, as I hate
to tire anybody with common habitual complaints, or
to trouble them to inquire after me, I have kept my
ails to myself as much as I could. I do certainly
mend, though very slowly : no wonder, at my age, and
with such a frame ! Still I have great cause to be
thankful, for though the husk is as slight as the shell
of a paper nautilus, the core is of iron wood. My
appetite (no voracious one) never fails ; and for sleep
it is at my command, as if I had a guardian angel
(poor angel !) always at my elbow, for I have nothing to
do, day or night, but to shut my eyes, and Ariel seals
them ; however, he has a good deal of time to himself,
for I indulge myself and him in that sinecure for half
the four and twenty hours.
Such having been my Christmas gambols, madam, it
is impossible I can have anything to entertain you. I
mean, if I can with safety, to be conveyed to London
next week ; but I am a great coward about relapses,
and never lay in a stock of patience but for the first
edition of a fit, and therefore shall not be too
precipitate. Lady Douglas will live ; but at present the disorder
has fallen on her eyes, but I hope not desperately.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 431
This has been an effort, and now I must rest.— Here,
Ariel !

LETTER CCCXLVI.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 20, 1791.
I have indeed, madam, been much worse since I
gave your ladyship the last account of myself; and
that much worse is indeed very far from being much
better. I have the gout, or rheumatism, or both in
every joint of both arms and hands, and for three days
could neither open nor attend to the prologue you were
so good as to send me, and which I believe I shall
admire whenever my head is clear enough to know
what I do like. I have no dangerous symptoms, but
here I lie, balloted between pain, extreme weakness,
and some cordage of a constitution that still ties the
skeleton together.

LETTER CCCXLVII. Berkeley Square, Jan. 28, 1791.
You and Lord Ossory have been so very good to
me, madam, that I must pay you the first tribute of
my poor reviving fingers — I believe they never will be
their own men again ; but as they have lived so long in
your ladyship's service, they shall shew their attach
ment to the last, like Widdrington on his stumps. I
have had another, and grievous memento, the death of
poor Selwyn ! His end was lovely, most composed and

432 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
rational. From eight years old I had known him in
timately without a cloud between us ; few knew him
so well, and consequently few knew so well the good
ness of his heart and nature — but I will say no more
— Mon. Chancelier vous dira le reste. * — No, my chan
cellor shall put an end to the session, only concluding
as Lord Bacon would have done for King James, with
an apologue, "His majesty's recovery has turn'd the
corner, and exceeding the old fable, has proved that
the stomach can do better without the limbs than they
could without him." — Adieu, madam.

LETTER CCCXLVIII.
Berkeley Square, Monday noon, April 25, 1791.
You flew away, madam, without clapping your
wings or giving the least notice ; and by your ordering
me to send you news, it looks as if you were taking
roost — I hope, not yet. I did perch on my opening
lilacs on Saturday, but was obliged to return just now
for my nephew Lord Cholmondeley's match with the
charming over the way, which, I hear, is to be very
fine in clothes and lace, Lady Ducie having revived
that old-fashioned, and I think, absurd, finery. It is
to be this evening.
Easter and my absence makes me totally ignorant of
news, but what I left last week, now a little stale ; and
I have seen nobody yet to refresh that little or much
* Here begins Kirgate's hand-writing in the MSS. — Ed.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 433
(for I know not which either of the articles imports, I
mean the Indian news and the resignation of the Duke
of Leeds). The first was dispersed as a defeat ; but on
Friday evening, like many defeats, was construed into
a victory. Why the duke retired, and whether he too
is not to rally and have some other post, and who is to
cross over and figure in with him, I cannot tell ; two or
three have been named — but it is as well not to know,
as to send you falsehoods.
Last night I was at Richmond with the Birons and
Boufflers. The young Due de Richelieu, of a very dif
ferent character from his grandfather and father, and
consequently very amiable, is arrived, and the Due de
Pienne, and Madame de St. Priest and her husband fol
lowing. The horrors at Paris increase, and Mirabeau's
death will probably let them widely loose ; for his abili
ties being almost as great as his villanies, there seems
to be nobody left with parts enough to control the
rest. Anarchy must stride on, and people will find
out that a dissolution of all government, is not the best
way of reforming even the worst. Crimes made some
kind of government originally necessary ; but, till now,
nobody ever thought that giving the utmost latitude to
all crimes, was the surest mode of keeping mankind in
order and happy ; and yet, with that universal indul
gence of the rights of men, the French prisons are
twenty times fuller than ever they were— except of
assassins and plunderers ! It is my opinion, that some
of the National Assembly will, ere long, dislike being
exposed to armies of banditti, and not find their own
VOL. II. F F

434 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
eighteen livres a day perfectly secure ; yet I shall not
wonder if Mirabeau's rapid wealth should encourage
other beggarly innovators. Adieu ! madam, but I hope
not for long, and that you will return.

LETTER CCCXLIX. Berkeley Square, April 30, 1791.
I thank your ladyship for your felicitation on my
nephew's marriage. It is certainly a proper one, and
suitable enough in age, rank, fortune, and good nature ;
but it was far from a fine or ceremonious wedding. We
were but eighteen persons present ; nobody but the
reigning Duchess of Ancaster had a diamond ; and, ex
cept myself, (who had an inkling of silver in my waist
coat, though since my abandoning Courts and public
places I have left off gold and silver,) the men were so
undrest, that had they been dirty too, they might have
gone afterwards to the largest assembly in town : not
so my Lord Cardigan's wedding, for which the king
and queen make new clothes — an honour unprece
dented, at least for two centuries. King James I.,
perhaps, was very fine at the marriage of some of his
buffoons. The uproar is begun at Paris, and everybody that
can is leaving it. Three or four of their late dukes
are arrived, and La Fayette is expected. The Duke of
Orleans gains ground, for he has some money left ;
but having neither character nor courage, it shews how

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 435
little exists of either. Mobs can destroy a government
for a time, but it requires the greatest talents and the
greatest firmness — ay, and time too, to recompose and
establish one. The French might have had a good
government, if the National Assembly had had sense,
experience, moderation, and integrity; but wanting
all, they have given a lasting wound to liberty. They
have acted, as that nation has always done, from the
fashion of the hour, and with their innate qualities,
cruelty and insolence : and when this hurricane is
blown over, the anarchy of France will always be
quoted as worse than despotism ; and it should be re
membered that an attempt to suppress general preju
dices by violence and a total change, does but inflame
and root those prejudices more deeply in the sufferers.
What hundred thousands of lives did the Reformation
cost ? And was it general at last ? What feeling man
would have been Luther, if he could have foreseen the
blood he should occasion to be spilt ? For Calvin, he
was a monster. His opposing the Papacy, and burning
Servetus, proved him as bad, if not worse, than any of
the popes. How different are English and French !
How temperate are the Americans ! How unlike the
villain Mirabeau to Washington ! How odious is a re
former who acts from ambition or interest ! — and what
are moments of gratified ambition or interest to endless
obloquy ? Our constitution proves that no good go
vernment can be formed at once, or at once reformed ;
and reason, without experience, would tell one the
same, for nature does not produce at the same period a
F F 2

436 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
number of great men enough to comprehend all the
abuses that ought to be corrected in any system, and
at the same time to foresee the greater evils that would
arise from various alterations, for good and evil are so
intermixed in human affairs in a series of ages, that it
would require the omnipotent hand of the Creator to
separate the bran from the chaff; and since he has
permitted the intermixture, and not revealed his secret,
it becomes us, though bound to aim at the amendment
of abuses, to proceed with diffidence and a timid hand.
A presumptuous Alexander may cut a Gordian knot
with his sword ; and I wish it had never been worse
occupied — but perhaps the poor knot hurt nothing but
his pride ; and to be sure his time would have been
better employed in continuing to try to unravel it than
in drawing his sword on any other occasion.
The Duke of Bedford* does me a great deal too
much honour, madam ; but I must believe that I am
* I cannot resist transcribing from the memoranda of Lord Ossory the
following account of the death of Francis, Duke of Bedford, in 1802 : —
" On February 27th, 1802, I went over to Woburn, hearing of the
Duke of Bedford's dangerous illness. I had observed him unwell a few
days before. There I found Dr. Kerr, who explained to me the great
necessity and urgency of the case, as to the operation, which he seemed
much inclined to undertake before the other surgeons arrived ; but the
inclination of the duke to wait, and other circumstances, caused it to be
delayed until about half-past six o'clock. It was performed very suc
cessfully by Earle, but was found a bad case of the sort, complicated,
the intestine much inflamed and discoloured. However, it was said, the
next day, that things were in a better state than there was any right to
expect ; at least, I was told so by Halifax. However, I heard of a
nausea that day, which gave me unfavourable presentiments. The pro
gress of the disease was not favourable, and the symptoms were very bad
on Monday morning, till twelve ; from that time, till five or six, hopes
began to revive ; then they all vanished, and he was given over, and on

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 437
chiefly indebted to your ladyship's. partiality, who have
mentioned me too favourably in his hearing. If one is
spoken of by friends, it is certainly with omission of
one's faults, weaknesses, and deficiencies ; and then
how is the person to whom one has been commended,
disappointed ! One does not answer to the idea con
ceived, and all the defects surprise : but seriously
madam, how could I, approaching seventy-four, lame,
dining alone at a strange hour, with a decaying
memory, or remembering nothing but old tales, unac
quainted with the present world, and conversing only
or but seldom with any but the few old acquaintance
I have left, be fit company for the Duke of Bedford ?
I know myself too well to clog his grace's good nature
Monday morning, March the 2nd, about half-past eleven, he expired, in
a. manner, in Lord John's arms.
" Thus died Francis, Duke of Bedford, with a sort of similarity of
fate to his father, both of whom I loved with much affection and
attachment. " The Duke of Bedford's energetic and capacious mind, his enlarged
way of thinking, and elevated sentiments, together with the habits and
pursuits of his life, peculiarly qualified him for his high station and
princely fortune. He was superior to bad education and disadvantages
for forming his character, and turned out certainly a first-rate man,
though not free from imperfections. His uprightness and truth were
unequalled ; his magnanimity, fortitude and consideration, in his last
moments, taken so unprepared as he was, were astonishing, and Dr.
Kerr assured me, he never met with such a wan at such a time.
" To have lost such a relation,— whom I had known from his earliest
years, and, in a manner, at that time, regarded as my son, — such a friend,
and such a neighbour, makes a deep impression upon me ; I can scarcely
ride a, mile about Ampthill, or any part of Bedfordshire, without seeing
traces of his active spirit in improvements. To reflect that all this is
swept away in a few days, and that he is this very day, March 11th,
1802, being carried to his grave, is like a dream. What a field for
moralizing !" — Ed.

438 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
and good breeding ; and as I have never done anything
that can make it worth curiosity's while to see me once
even in my decrepitude, I am content to live in the
duke's good opinion only by the favourable opinion
your ladyship has given him of me. The poor cross
at Ampthill is very like me ; it was small at first, a
breath of wind has blown most of it away, only enough
remains to preserve my name a little longer, and then
the grass will cover us both.

LETTER CCCL.
Strawberry Hill, June 28, 1791, after dinner.
Our post, madam, which only comes in, turns on
its heel, and goes out again, made it impossible for me
to answer your ladyship's letter before dinner, especially
as I write with difficulty and very slowly, having such
a rheumatism in my right shoulder and arm that I
cannot lift it, scarcely upon the table : I have had a
little of it the whole year ; and, it being the way in
this country to proclaim summer the moment the
winter dies (though perhaps only dozing), people open
their windows and keep them so till ten o'clock at
night, pretending to be hot, and, it being my fate to
meet with two such refreshing grottoes on Saturday
night, I have not been able to move my arm since.
The escape of the King and Queen of France came
merely time enough to double the shock of their being
retaken. An ocean of pity cannot suffice to lament
their miserable condition, of which I yet know no

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 439
particulars, nor more of their evasion than that it was
by a subterraneous passage. Almost all the circum
stances both of their flight and capture, which I heard
from the French at Richmond, and they from their
ambassador, I now hear, are disbelieved in London,
particularly of Monsieur de Bouill^'s two battalions
having laid down their arms, which, indeed, would be
a shocking example ! How the tragedy is to end, or
begin, it is impossible to guess. The only data yet are
that the French are as insolent and cruel when pos
sessed of force, as servile and crouching, and fawning,
when slaves. Lord Frederick Cavendish two days ago
was reading Barillon's letters from England : he tells
somebody that he had been in the city incog, to see
the Pope burnt on 5th of November; and adds, " not a
drop of blood was shed. That would not have been
the case at Paris."
One cannot think without horror of what the king
and queen must have felt, from the moment of their
being stopped till their re-entry into their prison, if
they are suffered to arrive there ; perhaps to see the
last of one another, and of their children ! They may
have to feel, too, for the faithful assistants of their
flight; all who did assist will certainly suffer, and
many others, too, for all the real liberty given to
France is, that anybody may hang anybody.
I have been very much with the wretched fugitives
at Richmond ! To them it is perfect despair ; besides
trembling for their friends at Paris !
To conjecture what will happen, or how, would be

440 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
foolish ; but these new events do not make me believe
at all more in the duration of chaos, though they may
protract it. I see nothing like system, and full as
little, anything like a great man. The very impulse
given by the flight and recapture of the King, must add
vast fermentation to twenty millions of heads already
turned; and much good may it do anybody who at
tempts to sober them ! They can only be governed
yet by indulging their exaltation. When the million
are glutted with trampling on, murdering, and insult
ing their former superiors, they will grow tired of their
present leaders, and hundreds will think they can
govern as ably : in short, can such a convulsion and so
total a change subside into a calm ? The more all are
intoxicated with a total change, the more any deviation
from totality will offend. The King, unhappily for
him, has precipitated his own ruin, and probably his
family's ; but I am far from clear that he has mended
the situation of the National Assembly. They will
think he has, and will be assuming, and the more
power they assume the less they will care to part with
it ; though at the moment when others were expecting
a new Assembly and hoping to be of it. Pray, madam,
have you hitherto seen any grounds for believing that
wisdom is the ruling character of the National As
sembly ?
I have dipped into speculations, though I protested
against them, and I have fatigued my arm before I
could stop ; but I must now bid you good night, not
being able to write a line more.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 441
LETTER CCCLI.
Strawberry Hill, Aug. 8, 1791.
I have frequently been inclined to make Kirgate
write a line for me, but reflected that I should only
give your ladyship a little unnecessary concern, when
I knew that patience would ere long enable me to
write myself. It has delivered me from pain, but has
left my arm so lame that I cannot lift it to the top of
my head, nor write but slowly and with difficulty. I
have made no vow against going to church ; it is not
so tempting since this last experience as to make it
necessary to tie myself up. I have always gone now
and then, though of late years rarely, as it was most
unpleasant to crawl through a church-yard full of star
ing footmen and apprentices, clamber a ladder to a
hard pew to hear the dullest of all things, a sermon,
and croaking and squalling of psalms to a hand-organ
by journeymen brewers and charity children. As I
am to go soon to church for ever, I do not think it my
duty to try on my death before hand. The truth is,
madam, I am worn out, and little fit to go anywhere
or do anything. I did two months ago begin on
the " Woburn Catalogue," and out of one hundred
articles got through forty ; when I shall be able to
finish the rest the Lord knows ! for I can neither lift
nor turn over folios of genealogies, for though I used
to know who begat whom, like a chapter in Genesis,
my mind is not so triflingly circumstantial now, and I
might create scandal backwards two centuries ago.

442 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
To Mr. Burke's appeal, I answer, it is well and care
fully written ; but I think he had better not have
wanted it, by accepting Mr. Fox's tender and handsome
apology. For my own part, I had rather be entertained
by anybody's imprudence than their discretion. If a
man will be discreet, why write at all ? How much
more delightful are Mr. Burke's wit, similes, metaphors,
and allusions and eccentricities, than his references to
what he said in anno Domini one thousand seven hun
dred, &c. ! I am most pleased with his slashing the
French, and Paine, and the Presbytyrants, as Lord
Melcombe called the Presbyterians. By the way, I am
mighty glad to be mighty sorry for Dr. Priestly, as I
am sure he is very sorry that he has no opportunity of
being very glad for having occasioned fifty thousand
times the mischief that has fallen on his own head ;
yet he might have saved his house, had he clapped Mr.
Merry's Ode on it, that is cold enough to have quenched
a volcano, and dull enough to be admired by the French
Academy. Yes, madam, yes, by this time twelvemonth
the immortal 1 4th of July may be buried with Voltaire
at St. Genevieve, and the National Assembly too. I
am sick of their puerility and pedantry ; and yet I
think they cannot be such egregious fools as they seem.
Their most ridiculous debates must proceed from a
kind of finesse to keep the people intoxicated with
new visions, and to avoid settling anything that by
finishing might put an end to their own eighteen livres
a-day. The Berrys are not expected before the end of Oc-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 443
tober at soonest, and then, I trust, have no thoughts of
coming through France. Your own journey, I hope,
madam, is from no necessity of health. Your invita
tion would be both most agreeable, and I believe salu
tary for me ; but I want resolution, and fancy I want
so many other things, that I equally omit what I like
and what would be of use to me. Having lost all
manner of activity, I have been forced to discover,
that total indolence is a comfortable succedaneum.
Adieu, madam ! — Yours, &c.

LETTER CCCLII. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 22, 1791.
No, madam, no, I am not so fractious as to quarrel
with the civil things you are pleased to say to me. It
is true I never had a taste for being complimented ; but
I don't know how, I am grown less mealy-eared : I sup
pose it is natural in old age ; when one has lost any
talent one may have been supposed to have, one may be
fond of being told one retains it. Queen Elizabeth,
when shrivelled like a morel, listened with compla
cency to encomiums on her beauty. I perhaps may
soon flatter myself, when I cannot crawl, that I am as
nimble as I was above fifty years ago, when Mr. Win-
nington told me I ran along like a pewet ; but as to the
iron-head, I still protest against it. I have said I have
an iron stomach, and may say so still ; but never did

444 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
I, nor can I allow the iron head. I know too well
the slight and unconnected ingredients of which it is
compounded !
With Mr. Burke's book I do not mean to find fault,
but to distinguish between what delights me, and what
I only respect. I adore genius ; to judgment I pull off
my hat, and make it a formal bow ; but as I read only
to amuse myself, and not to be informed or convinced,
I had rather (for my private pleasure) that in his last
pamphlet he had flung the reins on the neck of his
boundless imagination, as he did in the first. Genius
creates enthusiasts or enemies ; judgment only cold
friends ; and cold friends will sooner go over to your
enemies than to your bigots. As to Mr. Fox, I own I
think the tears he shed for having hurt Mr. Burke, were
an infinitely nobler peace-offering than a recantation
could have been. Who weeps for his friend, feels; who
retracts his opinion, may be convinced, or from art or
interest may pretend he is convinced ; and that recan
tation may be due to the public, without being due to
his friend, as no friendship binds one to think exactly
like one's friend on general topics ; and therefore to
shed tears for having disagreed, was a greater sacrifice
than retractation : and in that light I admire Mr. Fox's
temper more than Mr. Burke's. This is being very
impartial ; for though with Mr. Fox I admire the de
struction of despotism, I agree with Mr. Burke in ab
horring the violence, cruelty, injustice, and absurdity
of the National Assembly, who have destroyed regal
tyranny for a short time, and exercise ten times greater

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 445
themselves ; and I fear have ruined liberty for ages ; for
what country will venture to purchase a chance of free
dom at the price of the ruin that has been brought on
France by this outrageous experiment.
I am the more impartial, madam (which I am not
apt to be), as Mr. Burke has bribed me in the most
welcome manner by his panegyric on my father ; but
I must speak as I think and have long thought, at
least felt for many years. But I am a very timid
politician ; and though I detest tyranny, I never
should have ventured to act against it at the expense
of blood, as I am not clear that I am authorised to put
a single man to death for the benefit of others. I am
shocked to hear it said that the French Revolution
has cost very little blood ! and even that is false !
Sure I am that the electors of the Etats gave them
(and who but the whole nation could give ?) no
authority to shed a drop ! If one of our juries should
condemn a man to be hanged for what he deserved
only to be set in the stocks, would not they commit
murder ? Have I a right, and whence, to take away
any man's property, and allow myself eighteen livres
a day out of it ? Had the King of France less lawful
right to grant parts of his own domains, than the
Assembly have to take away those domains and share
part of the income amongst themselves, and call it
paying themselves for doing their duty in an Assembly,
in which they have violated almost every duty they
were sent to perform, and which duty they have pro
tracted beyond the term for which they were sent to

446 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
perform it ? Would my breaking my oath to my king
authorize me to force others to break theirs and take
contradictory oaths ? And did their electors nominate
them to impose a code of perjury on the whole nation,
or strip men of their property for refusing to be per
jured ? And all this is called a Revolution in favour
of liberty ! The system, if it is one, is not a democracy,
but a demonocracy, for it will sluice torrents of blood
before it is settled, or overturned, which last will
probably be its fate. James II. broke his coronation
oath and the laws, and would have governed without a
parliament. Louis XVI. restored the old constitutional
parliaments, called the Etats to mend the constitution,
and they have treated him worse than the worst of
his predecessors whom they flattered and servilely
obeyed ! I do not admire Papal government ; but
when the National Assembly had overturned that
usurpation, had they a right (after declaring for
universal peace) to seize dominions of the Sovereign
of Rome, which never belonged to France, and hang
inhabitants of Avignon for not breaking their oaths to
that sovereign ; if the National Assembly did not order
those murders, have they punished them or made
any reparation to the families of the massacred ? At
least they do not take eighteen livres a day for doing
justice !
P.S. — As I do not know whether your ladyship is set
out for Eastbourne, or how to direct, if you are ; I
send this to Ampthill ; it will always reach you time
enough, for such commonplace requires no answer,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 447
nor deserves any ; but I know nothing newer, and
perhaps have said the same things before. Our own
Revolution, and that in Poland, shew that a country
may be saved and a very bad government corrected, by
wise and good men, without turning the rights of men
into general injustice and ruin.
2nd P.S. I wrote this letter yesterday after dinner,
to be ready for our early post to-day ; and then went
to the Duke of Queenberry's at Richmond, where were
our French exiles, Madame du Barry, and some of the
foreign ministers, and there I heard the following
horrible demonocratic story, which came yesterday
morning in a letter to George Pitt, from his mother,
Lady Rivers, at Lyons, and for which I don't wonder
she has determined to quit her house there and return
to England. A young gentleman, who visited her,
was seized by the demons, I do not know for what
offence or suspicion, and was tied to a spit and roasted
alive ; nor was that all ! They brought his mother
to see that dreadful sight, and whipped her till she
expired before he did. I would not relate such an
incredible massacre without quoting my authority. If
French kings have been tyrants, what are French
people %

LETTER CCCLIII.

Strawberry Hill, Sept. 8, 1791.
You stroke me with so caressing a hand, madam,
that I repent having yielded to undertake the cata-

448 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
logue, for I now see that you expect something from
it, and I am clear that it must disappoint you. Be
sides, I have been looking into Mr. Pennant's account,
and find my notes were unnecessary, he having an
ticipated some of the same anecdotes that I have
added, and which I believe he had from me several
years ago, when he talked to me of a journey to
Woburn, or, at least, which he could find too, where
I found them. Indeed, with his usual hurry and
unacquaintance with ancientry, he has made some
blunders, with which I do not wish to charge myself.
He ascribes the church of Covent Garden to the second
duke, whom he takes for the first, and even then
would not be right, for I conclude Earl Francis, who
died in 1641, was the builder, as the church was
probably not erected after the civil war began. I
am quite innocent too, I assure you, madam, of call
ing Philip and Mary an insipid pair ; nor had Mr.
Pennant informed me that he proposed to give an
account of the wild beasts in the Tower, should I
have prompted him to remark, that a tiger and a
hyama are a couple of pretty playful animals. Still
I think his list would have sufficed ; and, had I turned
to it before I had finished mine (as I did to look for
Count Nassau, on whom I have got no information,)
I certainly should have excused myself. I had ex
hausted in the "Royal and Noble Authors," what I
had to say on some of the most entertaining characters,
and on those I could not touch again. In short, your
ladyship has drawn me into a little scrape, and dis-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 449
appointment will be your reward, for you will find
but a very poor performance. It is ready, such as it
is, and shall be sent to you whither you please, and
by what conveyance you shall direct ; but, for mercy's
sake, do not let the Duke of Bedford suppose he owes
me any thanks ; he might as well think himself obliged
to his frame-maker for cleaning a few old frames of
some of his family pictures, and writing their names
in a modern hand. Even his grace's housekeeper will
acquire no new erudition from me ; and can you really
expect any entertainment from a starved vocabulary
of names, for which I have done little more than
transcribe the catalogue itself, and some facts in the
duke's genealogy in the " Peerage ? " My precursor,
Pennant, may have tripped, but he is much more
lively. I don't know that I am glad, madam, of Mr. Fitz
patrick's taking to botany. Though I dare to say that
he is more entertaining from the cedar to the hyssop
than Linnaean Solomon himself (who, though he wrote
as high seasoned verses as Mr. Fitzpatrick, yet had not
so much wit), yet I do not know that I shall be the
better for his lectures ; and who wishes a poet to amuse
himself without wishing to be amused by him ? Mr.
Gray, often vexed me by finding him heaping notes on
an interleaved " Linnaeus," instead of pranking on his
lyre. Dr. Darwin, indeed, the sublime, the divine, has
poured all the powers of poetry into the flower-garden,
and as he has immortalised all the intrigues of the
lady-plants, who have as many gentlemen of the bed-
vol. n. g a

450 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
chamber (by herbalists called Husbands) as the nor
thern empress : why should not Mr. Fitzpatrick versify
the amours of trees who, are as busy with the two
genders as we Christians ? I only suggest this, not
that I am at all a botanist myself; even my passion
for flowers lies chiefly in my nose : I care much more
for their odours than for their, hues or for the anatomy
of their pistils. /
On France, it is true, madam, I am silent, and wait
for the echo. I am no cylinder to draw chaos into a
regular figure. No God has yet said, Let there be
light ! A pack of pedants are going to be replaced by
a pack of cobblers and tinkers, and confusion will be
worse confounded. I should understand the Revela
tions or guess the number of the beast, as soon as con
jecture what is to ensue in that country. Till anarchy
has been bloodied down to a caput mortuum, there
can be no settlement, for all will be struggling dif
ferent ways, when all ideas have been disjointed and
overturned ; no great bodies can find their account,
and no harmonious system is formed that will be for
the interest either of the whole or of individuals.
Even they who would wish to support what they now
call a constitution, will be perpetually counteracting
it, as they will be endeavouring to protract their own
power, or to augment their own fortunes — probably
both ; and since a latitude has been thrown open to
every man's separate ideas, can one conceive that unity
or union can arise out of such a mass of discord ? But
it is idle to pretend to foresee what I shall not live to

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 451
see ; besides, foresight guesses backwards from what
has happened, not forwards, futurity sans inspiration
giving prophets no ground to stand on. All France
is turned into legislators ; no ordinance is obeyed but
that of the lanterne, and that supreme will forbids any
redress for any injury. Unwilling as I am to prognos
ticate, can one help asking how long such a dispensa
tion can endure ? — Could it last, it must reduce the
country to a desert, or to a worse state of barbarism
than can be supposed ever to have existed, even if the
globe was peopled progressively. The earliest bodies
of savages were too much occupied by their daily
wants not to attempt mending their condition by
degrees, and saw no neighbours in a situation to be
envied or to be worth invading. Four and twenty
millions of civilised people suddenly converted into
savages, know what they envied, coveted — and accord
ingly have levelled everything they could, not to keep
anything on a level, but first to exercise power, and
then to engross what each man's secret heart told him,
at least made him hope would be the consequence of
enjoying power. One instance will serve for thousands,
— Monsieur Condoreet, Dr. Priestly 's consolatory cor
respondent, has got a place in the treasury, of 1,000/.
a-year. — Adieu, madam ; I doubt I have not been so
silent on France as I announced !
P.S. — The Berrys are set out on their return, and I
hope will be in England- by the middle of next month.
On the Blandford match, madam, I shall certainly
not be diffuse, being perfectly indifferent about two
G G 2

452 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
young persons whom I never saw, and with whom I
have no connection : yet it has made much buzz among
many, who have no more to do with it than I have,
and who consequently if they pleased might care as
little.

LETTER CCCLIV.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 30, 1791.
I have been ashamed to write to your ladyship
till I could tell you that I have finished the notes to
the Duke of Bedford's pictures ; I stayed at home all
yesterday evening to make an end ; but alas ! madam,
though I have been so tedious, if your partiality for me
has raised any expectation of amusement in the duke,
his grace will be piteously disappointed; of which I
warned your ladyship before I undertook the task in
the execution of which I have no kind of merit but
obedience. Age has not left me even the ardour of a
genealogist, though it requires nothing but perseverance,
and rheumatism cripples even that. Well, I will say
no more of my tasks and my defects. Another damper
was that some of the portraits are of persons so well
known that it would have been tautology to dwell on
them ; and others so forgotten that I have been able
to find no memorials of them. Of none of them are
the painters named. I remember two curious pictures
(but know not which they are in this list, as there are
several duplicates of the same persons) which the first
time I was at Woburn the Duchess of Bedford told me

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 453
were two sons of the second earl, and that from their
story the subject of the " Orphan" was taken. They
were two young men, less than life, I think, with
emblems, and in one of the pictures was a lady in a
maze. Did you ever hear of that anecdote, madam,
and can you tell me more of it ?
Well ! I said I had done my work, and now I will
have it transcribed fair and transmit it to your lady
ship ; but you must not expect it incontinently, for
poor Kirgate is shaking in bed with an ague and fever,
and nobody else can read my sketches, when I am
putting together things of this sort with twenty books
on the table, and abbreviate words so, that they are
rather memorandums than sentences, and sometimes I
have difficulty to make them out myself.
Not knowing whether you are at Ampthill or Farm
ing-Woods, I direct to the former as the more secure
conveyance, and having satisfied my conscience by de
claring my task done, it is of no consequence if you do
not receive my notification this week.
I have seen Arundel Castle, which your ladyship
mentioned in your last. It is a nothing on a fine hill.
The old duke told me the castle had been haunted by
a giant, and did not know that that giant was Oliver
Cromwell !
I have scarce a newer anecdote to send you, madam,
but that old Q. presented Madame du Barry to the
king on the terrace at Windsor, and the King of Eng
land did not turn the same side that the late King of
France used to turn to her, but the reverse, as he told

454 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Lord Onslow himself. It was a strange oblivion of
etiquette in an ancien gentilhomme de la chambre,
and more so in one dismissed !
I have to the last drop of my pen been your lady
ship's most obedient, but, indeed, now can only be
your most humble servant.

LETTER CCCLV. Berkeley Square, Oct. 26, 1791.
Your ladyship is very gracious about the cata
logue, as I knew you would be, when you had com
manded it ; but I disclaim all merit but obedience,
which, we are told, is better than sacrifice, but which
in this case was the same thing, as nobody could have
less taste for the task, nor less satisfaction in the exe
cution. There are but two articles at all curious, and
those not new ; yet, by collecting scattered incidents,
and putting them together, Christian, Countess of Devon
shire, appears to me to have been a remarkable person
age ; and by the same kind of assemblage I was pleased
to find, what I had not observed before, that the Lord
Russell in the double portrait with Lord Digby, became
so long afterwards the first Duke of Bedford, and con
sequently was concerned in both those memorable
periods, the Civil War and the Revolution. Genealogy
and pedigrees thus become useful in the study of history,
if the study itself of history is useful, which I doubt,
considering how little real truth it communicates, and

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 455
how much falsehood it teaches us to believe. Indeed,
considering how very little truth we can glean from the
study of anything, I question whether there is any other
good in what is called learning, than its enabling us to
converse on an equal footing with those who think
they possess knowledge, because they have acquainted
themselves with the imperfect scraps of what passes for
science. I thank your ladyship for correcting my blunder
about the Queen of Bohemia, which shews how little I
have profited by studying genealogy, or that I have lost
my memory, which I rather believe the case, as I think
in the very same article I have alluded to James I. as
that queen's father, and therefore did know what I for
got the next minute.
My little spurt of gout, I thank you, madam, is gone,
but the inflammation on my arm not quite, and it keeps
me still in town ; yet I hope to get away in a day or
two. My servant's death was shocking indeed, and incom-
prehensively out of proportion to his fault, and to the
slight notice taken of it ; and that gentle treatment is
my consolation, as I had in nowise contributed to, nor
could foresee nor prevent his sad catastrophe !
Your ladyship's most devoted, &c.

456 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCCLVI.
Berkeley Square, Nov. 23, 1791.
Your ladyship, I am sure, will excuse my silence,
when you hear in what distress I have been from a new
fit of frenzy of Lord Orford, attended by total insensi
bility, and so violent a fever, that from seven o'clock
on Friday evening, when Dr. Monro, whom I had sent
down to him, returned, I had dreaded an express with
an account of his death, till the post came in very late
on Monday ; nor should I have known a syllable of his
disorder and danger, had not Lord Cadogan, who lives
in the neighbourhood, sent me word of it ; the persons
in the house, with Lord Orford and his servants, totally
concealing his situation from me, and from both his
steward and his lawyer in town, who knew it not but
from me ; though a mad keeper had been sent for
privately to an apothecary in St. Alban's Street. This
is a new instance of the treatment I have received in
return for and ever since all the torment and trouble
I had ; and for all the care, attention and tenderness I
twice exerted during his fits of lunacy, and in recover
ing and restoring him from which I was fortunately
rewarded by success. Thank God, I have the comfort
of seeing the tranquillity of the end of my days re
newed, for the fever is in a manner gone, and his senses
so far returned, that I conclude it will again be said,
as it has been the fashion to say, " that he is as well
as ever he was ;" and in one sense that may be true J

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 457
I beg your pardon, madam, for this tedious apology,
but when so injuriously and disgracefully treated, and
still more, with such gross injustice, for if ever I had
merit in any part of my life, it has been in my care of
Lord Orford, can I be totally silent to those who wish
me well ? And when I can produce proofs of a long
list of such services, pains and acts of the strictest
honour and integrity as few uncles or trustees I believe
could equal, is it not hard, madam, to be treated by
my lord's intimates as if I had bad designs, though
when twice in my power for months, I alone directed
the management and unparalleled tender treatment
of him ; and to be used by him after both his re
coveries as a total stranger and alien, and mocked by
an annual present of two boxes of pewet's eggs, with a
line and a half in his own hand on a folio sheet,
simply notifying the donation ? I call them his quit-
rents ; they are his only acknowledgment of my
existence. But I have done and will tire your lady
ship no more on that subject, which, for my own peace,
too, I will forget as much as I can.
The Duke of Bedford is too gracious, madam, in
being pleased to say he is content with my meagre
account of his pictures, which do not deserve the
honour of a visit from his grace ; but may I say he
would oblige me by lending me for a very few days
the small portrait of Christian, Countess of Devonshire,
which shall be returned carefully without delay. A
friend of mine, Mr. Lysons, a clergyman, is writing a
history of the villages for ten miles round London,

458 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
with an account of the churches, monuments, chief
houses, and remarkable inhabitants that have lived or
are buried in each ; with some views and plates, two
or three of which I shall contribute. Lady Devonshire
will be one, if the duke will allow a drawing to be
taken from it, for it shall not be detained for the
engraver. Thank your ladyship for the verses you inclosed,
though I had seen both copies before ; the duke's are
the best, for, though not harmonious, they are simple
and natural. The other lines are not Lady Spencer's,
but her mother's Lady Lucan, who repeated them to
me herself some time ago.
Dr. Robertson's book amused me pretty well, ma
dam, though very defective from the hiatuses in his
materials. It is a genealogy with more than half the
middle descents wanting ; and thence his ingenious
hypothesis of western invaders importing civilization
from the east is not ascertained. Can one be sure a
peer is descended from a very ancient peer of the
same name, though he cannot prove who a dozen of
his grandfathers were ? Dr. Robertson shone when he
wrote the history of his own country, with which he
was acquainted. All his other works are collections,
tacked together for the purpose ; but as he has not
the genius, penetration, sagacity, and art of Mr.
Gibbon, he cannot melt his materials together, and
make them elucidate and even improve and produce
new discoveries ; in short, he cannot, like Mr. Gibbon,
make an original picture with some bits of Mosaic.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 459
The doctor, too, has let himself build on that trifling
saying of " the cradle of Science." I told him so in
my answer when he sent me his book, and that if the
east were the cradle of science, at least it had never
got out of its nursery. It might invent a horn-book ;
did it ever arrive at a grammar ?
I certainly, madam, am not able to tell you a tittle
more of the Duchess of York, than the newspapers
tell you and me ; nor do I know what truths or lies
they tell. I have been entirely shut up with my own
family since Lord Orford's illness, receiving and writing
letters, &c. I have scarce any other acquaintance in
town, and have outlived most of those I had. Nor,
though I abhor the French for all their savage bar
barities, condemn them for missing so favourable an
opportunity of obtaining a good, free, and durable
constitution ; and despise them for their absurdities,
that are both childish and pedantic ; I am not grown
a whit more in love with princes and princesses than
I ever was, nor have any curiosity about them. I do
not dislike kings, or nobility, or people, but as human
creatures that, when possessed of full power, scarce
ever fail to abuse it ; and, therefore, each descrip
tion ought to be chained in some degree, or made
counterpoisons to one another, as we, by an unique
concurrence of accidents, are in this country.
There, madam ! I send you grievances, complaints,
criticisms, and opinions, all eccentric perhaps ; but I
was glad to turn the stream of my thoughts into any
new cut, and am more glad to find that I can do it so

460 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
easily ; an earnest of my soon becoming as indifferent
to my vexations, as I was before the sore was opened
again. Oh ! I this moment recollect to tell your lady
ship that Lady Craven received the news of her lord's
death on a Friday, went into weeds on Saturday, and
into white satin, and many diamonds, on Sunday,
and in that vestal trim was married to the Margrave
of Anspach by my cousin's chaplain, though he and
Mrs. Walpole excused themselves from being present.
The bride excused herself for having so few diamonds ;
they had been the late Margravine's, but she is to
have many more, and will soon set out for England,
where they shall astound the public by living in a
style of magnificence unusual, as they are richer than
anybody in this country. The Dukes of Bedford,
Marlborough, and Northumberland, may hide their
diminished rays !

LETTER CCCLVII. Berkeley Square, Dec. 10, 1791.
Your ladyship has so long accustomed me to
your goodness and partiality, that I am not surprised
at your being kind on an occasion that is generally
productive of satisfaction. That is not quite the case
with me. Years ago, a title would have given me no
pleasure, and at any time the management of a
landed estate, which I am too ignorant to manage,
would have been a burthen. That I am now to
possess, should it prove a considerable acquisition to

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 461
my fortune, which I much doubt, I would not pur
chase at the rate of the three weeks of misery which
I have suffered, and which made me very ill, though
I am now quite recovered. It is a story much too full
of circumstances, and too disagreeable to me to be
couched in a letter; some time or other I may perhaps
be at leisure and composed enough to relate in general.
— At present I have been so overwhelmed with busi
ness that I am now writing these few lines as fast I
can, to save the post, as none goes to-morrow, and I
should be vexed not to thank your ladyship and Lord
Ossory by the first that departs. As, however, I owe
it to you and to my poor nephew, I will just say that
I am perfectly content. He has given me the whole
Norfolk estate, heavily charged, I believe, but that is
indifferent. I had reason to think that he had dis
graced, by totally omitting me— but unhappy as his
intellects often were, and beset as he was by mis
creants, he has restored me to my birth-right, and I
shall call myself obliged to him, and be grateful to his
memory, as I am to your ladyship, and shall be as I
have so long been, your devoted servant, by whatever
name I may be forced to call myself.*

LETTER CCCLVIII. Dec. 26, 1791.
Your ladyship is, as usual, ever kind to me. My
mistership, I believe, would have been very well if I
* No signature in the MS. — Ed.

462 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
could have preserved it, but the lordship and its train
of troubles have half killed me. I have had a week's
gout, but it is gone, and so far comforts me, as, had I
had much about me, I am sure it would have been pro
duced by all the trouble and fatigue I have undergone ;
nor have I strength or spirits to combat all I have to
come. I have not yet been able to go out of my house
to return visits, but as I am never called My lord but
I fancy I have got a bunch on my back, I must go and
leave my hump at fifty doors.
I have detained your ladyship's servant from various
interruptions, and here is the post from Norfolk ar
rived with letters that I probably must answer directly,
or at midnight, when my company is gone. In short,
my tranquillity is gone, and my voice almost also ; and
as Kirgate is grown deafish, it is even less fatigue to
write myself than to dictate to him ; and all these
miseries must excuse the shortness of this.

LETTER CCCLIX. Berkeley Square, Jan. 18, 1792.
I return your ladyship the verses, with my
thanks ; Lord Holland's are very easy, and the Round-
Robin lively and clever. I inclose them as you order,
with my signature, that title that has produced so
much trouble to me, and made me be accused of both
vanity and affected humility, though my disgust arose
from mortified pride, as might easily have been guessed,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 463
if they, who like to censure, would give themselves
the trouble to judge. I was rich as a commoner, for I
was always content with my fortune, even when I had
lost 1,400/. a year by my brother Sir Edward's death :
I am not vain of being the poorest earl in England,
nor delighted to have outlived all my family, its estate,
and Houghton, which, while it was complete, would
have given me so much pleasure ; now I will only be a
mortifying ruin, which I will never see. To this
prospect are thrown in several spiteful acts executed
by my poor nephew to injure me, yet I do not impute
them to him, for I have even learnt some instances
which shew he had principles. But having never been
sound in his senses, it exposed him to the successive
influence of a vile set of miscreants, who, to estrange
him from me, had persuaded him that I wanted to shut
him up ; or worse, though I had twice for fifteen, and
then for twelve months, had him entirely in my power,
and had treated him both times with a care and ten
derness unknown in those cases ; the fatal conse
quence to him, poor soul! has been, that under
pretence of removing him from the reach of my talons,
they hurried him, in the height of a putrid fever, to
Houghton, though he complained and begged to stop
on the road, but was not allowed, relays being laid on
the road for him ; his sweats were stopped, and never
returned ! Had they been less precipitate, and how
ever they have aspersed me, I will not return it, nor
suspect them of killing him intentionally, which was
not their interest ; but there are proofs of such tam-

464 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
pering about wills, of which one of the actors has, by
a letter, offered to inform me, that had the poor man
not been dispatched so suddenly, the mere title had
probably been all my lot, as for three days I concluded
it was, on the report of one who, it seems, knew only
what was intended, and thought executed.
Thus, madam, I have troubled you with a little more
of my present history, which I have ventured, because
by your scratching under little, I concluded you thought
I had mentioned too little. Secrets indeed, I have
none ; but family histories that interest nobody but
one's self, are commonly tedious ; and perhaps this,
amounting to a whole page, may prove so too ; but you
shall have no more ; though as almost all my mornings
are engrossed by the consequences of my nephew's
death, I have little leisure for anything I like, or to
learn anything that can amuse others. The Pantheon
was burnt, and my last sealed and gone to the post
before I heard of that calamity : how fortunate, that
two theatres should have been burnt in so very few
years, and neither during any performance ! I do not,
however, intend to pass my remnant of time with
lawyers and stewards ; and as soon as the executors
have finished, or settled their operations, I hope to fall
again into my old train, and amuse myself with more
agreeable trifles than business, for which I have no
talent ; and it is too late for me to learn the multi
plication table. I have only to guard against my
titularity drawing me into any debts or distresses that
may intrench on my private fortune, which I have

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 465
destined and appropriated to those who will want it,
or miss me ; and this is so sacred a point with me,
that I made a resolution not to add a shilling of
expense to my ordinary way of life, till at a year's end
I shall see in a banker's hands, what addition there
will be to my usual income. Till then I shall, in the
loo-phrase, pass eldest, nor play without pam in my
hand.

LETTER CCCLX. Berkeley Square, Jan. 14, 1792.
As your ladyship and Lord Ossory have been so
good as to send your servant to inquire after me, I
can do no less to save you such trouble, than tell you
myself that I am in a moment of prettywellness, and
have been able to return the visits of ceremony on my
new christening ; and last night, as befits children at
Christmas, was carried to the pantomime of " Cymon,"
of which I was as tired as formerly in my middle age,
for it is only Garrick's ginger-bread double-gilt. I
know nothing else that will make a paragraph, for I
will not talk of my own trist affairs, which take up my
whole time, and present little but scenes of mortifica
tion, with which I have no right and no wish to
trouble anybody else : but as I neither sought my
present situation, nor certainly deserved it should be so
bad, I can remain in the state that suited me, and that
I had chalked out for myself and enjoyed ; and shall
VOL. ii. h h

466 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
not let an event that I could not nor was suffered to
prevent, disturb my peace, nor make the least altera
tion in my plan of living for the little time I may have
to come. I cannot help my name being changed ; it
shall change nothing else.

LETTER CCCLXI. Berkeley Square, Feb. 4, 1792.
I owe your ladyship a debt of thanks for Lord
Holland's prologue and epilogue, which I liked ; but
having nothing new to tell you, I waited for some
supply ; and now Lord Ossory is come to town and will
intercept not only my lean gazette, but will bring you
all the flower of St. James's-street, and of the two
houses which, whatever they may think of themselves,
are but the first coffee-houses of the day, and supply
the others during the season with their daily bread,
and are forgotten the moment their ovens cease to be
heated. Your ladyship mentions France, which is so truly
contemptible, that I neither read nor inquire about it.
Who can care for details of a mob ? It will be time
enough to know what mischief it has done when it shall
be dispersed. That scribbling trollop Madame de
Sillery, and the viper that has cast his skin, the Bishop
of Autun are both here, but I believe, little noticed ;
and the woman and the serpent I hope, will find few
disposed to taste their rotten apples : if Bishop Watson

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 467
would pair off with the prelate, one should have no
objection. Lord Ossory flatters me with hopes of seeing your
ladyship soon.

LETTER CCCLXII. Berkeley Square, April 10, 1792.
Kirgate orders me to tell your ladyship that his
master is mending as fast, or rather, as slowly, as the
latter expected, who not being quite arrived at that
miraculous age when people shoot out new hair and
teeth, he does not reckon upon more than recovering
some limbs and joints, that at their best are of very
little use to him.
Confining my ambition to my very limited prospect,
I do hope, madam, to be as well again in health as I
was last autumn — weaker probably, for every fit must
weaken ; but my iron stomach that has stood unhurt
so many attacks, seems as if it would hold out till it
has nothing left to defend but itself. I believe I shall
be able to eat and sleep when I have no other faculties
of a living animal ; and were it not for that impertinent
gadfly, Memory, the state would not be uncomfortable —
many an alderman has been content with it — why
should not I ?
I know no news, madam ; there has not been a king
murdered these two days, but the Jacobins promise
themselves good sport yet !
It is observable that philosophy in three years has
H H 2

468 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
made more horrid strides towards the most shocking
crimes and barbarities than the blindest enthusiasm
did in some centuries !

LETTER CCCLXIII. April 30, 1792.
I return your ladyship the print, which I flat
tered myself, as you said, you would call for.
I was very sorry to be out when Lord Ossory and
Mr. Johns called. I was gone to take the air for the
second time, but was so fatigued, that I believe it is in
vain to struggle, and therefore if they are so good as to
call again, they will probably find the remains of
Your most devoted Orford.*

LETTER CCCLXIV. May 22, 1792.
I am doubly sorry, madam, to hear your ladyship
has been out of order, and that I missed the honour of
seeing you before you go. I was trying change of air
too ; but I hope, as is most probable, that you will find
it much more rapidly beneficial than I have done, who
at most gain symptoms of amendment.
Should I hear any news before the newspaper, you
shall know, or shall allow Kirgate to tell you, for my
pen is as lame as its master, and likes as little to move.
* His first titled signature in the MSS. — Ed.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 469
LETTER CCCLXV. Monday 14th.
I have been much mortified, madam, that when your
ladyship has done me the honour of calling on me,
there has been company with me. That I fear will
generally be the case from half an hour after one till
four, which is high tide at my coffee-house. Your lady
ship objects to the evening, though except Mr. Churchill
and my sister, and Mr. Conway and Lady Ailesbury, I
do not know six persons who ever do come to me in an
evening, and they come very rarely indeed ; but I will
not presume to dictate to your ladyship, and submit to
my lot, as I am forced to do in every thing else.

LETTER CCCLXVI.
From the House that Jack built,
MADAM, Childernmass-day.
By the Dunstable coach I make bold to send your
ladyship the raw head and bloody bones of the only
giant I have killed this season, very few having come
over this year on account of the scarcity and dearness
of provisions ; besides that a whole flock has gone to
St. Petersburg to recruit the empress's menagerie, since
the disgrace of the Orlows : so that indeed I have had
very little sport, and have only kept my hand in prac
tice by shooting at flights of ostriches as they sat on
the roof of our barn. We have no news, please your

470 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
ladyship, but that Tom Hickathrift has had two chil
dren in a wood by Patient Grizzel ; and that Tom
Thumb has betted a thousand pounds that he rides
three horses at once next Newmarket meeting. Mother
Goose begs her duty ; poor soul, she is nothing the
woman she was ; in my mind, madam, Charlotte Edwin,
the old Scotch-woman that says nothing but " waal !
wadi! what do you tall one now?" is full as good
company ; so no more from your ladyship's poor
Beadsman and Game-keeper,
Jack the Gunt-killer.

LETTER CCCLXVII.
Berkeley Square, May 29, in the morning.
I returned from Strawberry too late yesterday,
madam, to answer your ladyship's letter incontinently,
and this morning I was hindered by business and com
pany ; but my gratitude is not cooled by being post
poned. I am indeed much obliged for the transcript of
the letter on my "Wives." Miss Agnes has a finesse in
her eyes and countenance that does not propose itself to
you, but is very engaging on observation, and has often
made herself preferred to her sister, who has the most
exactly fine features, and only wants colour to make
her face as perfect as her graceful person ; indeed
neither has good health nor the air of it. Miss Mary's
eyes are grave, but she is not so herself ; and, having
much more application than her sister, she converses
readily, and with great intelligence, on all subjects.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 471
Agnes is more reserved, but her compact sense very
striking, and always to the purpose. In short, they
are extraordinary beings, and I am proud of my par
tiality for them, and since the ridicule can only fall on
me, and not on them, I care not a straw for its being
said that I am in love with one of them — people shall
choose which : it is as much with both as either, and I
am infinitely too old to regard the qu'en dit on.
I know not a word of politics, madam, except seeing
with horror that the cowardly cannibals, as their own
La Fayette calls his countrymen, and he is no demo
crat, are driving on the murder of their King and
Queen ; and the Duke of Brunswick, I fear, will not be
at Paris in time to prevent it. Another of their philo*
sophic legislators — I forget the wretch's name — told
the King lately, that he ought to have two chaplains
about him. " I mean for the look of it," said he, " for
I am atheist myself, and do not mind those things ;"
no, nor assassination, nor any crime and injustice that
human depravity can engender in the mind. They
are going to empty their land of the nonjuring clergy,
and will leave it, as it deserves to be, a repaire of wild
beasts. Fortune, that now and then seems to lift up a
corner of the bandage over her eyes, played a malicious
trick yesterday. There was a little lottery of French
porcelain and millinery drawn at Lady Cecilia John
ston's, at a guinea a ticket, and no blanks. Lady
Anne Lambton drew a bonnet aristocrat (so marked),
stamped with fieurs de lis and Vive le Roi.

472 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Pray, madam, let me have early notice of your
return, for I shall leave town on Thursday se'nnight.

LETTER CCCLXVIII.
Strawberry Hill, June 27, 1792.
The wet and cold weather has so retarded my
recovery, madam, that if Strawberry had had a dry
thread to its back, and I had not been so unwell ever
since I came hither, I should have proposed to your
ladyship and Lord Ossory to honour me with a visit —
yet though that eternal weeper the month of June has
certainly done me no good, I need not look beyond
myself to account for my weakness. Almost half a
century of gout, with the addition of a quarter of one,
would undermine a stronger frame than mine ; and if
I live to have another fit, it will probably for the
remnant confine me to my own house. As I can but
just creep about, I have less reason than most people now
to complain of the climate ; and as I love to find out
consolations, I have discovered that Nature, as a com
pensation, has given us verdure and coal-mines in lieu
of summer ; and, as I can afford to keep a good fire,
and have a beautiful view from my window, why should
I complain ? I do not wish to amble to Ham Common
and be disappointed of a pastoral at Mrs. Hobart's.
Poor lady ! She has already miscarried of two fStes of
which she was big, and yet next minute she was preg
nant of another. Those fausses couches and Mrs.
Jordan's epistle to her, and daily as well as nightly

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 473
robberies, have occasioned as much cackling in this
district as if a thousand hen-roosts had been disturbed
at once. Three coaches coming in society, with a
horseman besides, from the play at Richmond, were
robbed last week by a squadron of seven foot-pads,
close to Mr. Cambridge's. If some check is not put to
the hosts of banditti, Mr. T. Paine will soon be able to
raise as well disciplined an army as he could wish.
But how can I talk even of the outrages that one fore
sees in speculation, when one reads the recent accounts
of those of the Tuileries ! What barbarity in the
monsters of Paris not at once to massacre the king and
queen, who have suffered a thousand deaths for three
years together, trembling for themselves, for their
children, and for each other ! I almost hate the Kings
of Hungary and Prussia as much as the detestable
Jacobins do, for not being already at the gates of Paris
— ay, and while they suffer those wretches to exist,
for conniving at the Tisiphone of the North ! They
tolerate a diabolic anarchy, and countenance the
destruction of the most amiable and most noble of all
revolutions that ever took place. How can one make
an option between monarchs and mobs !
Well ! with all my lofty airs, so little is my mind,
madam, that I can turn from horror at mighty con
vulsions to indignation at puny spite and vulgar
malice. How contemptible is the National Assembly !
Not content with annihilating, vilifying, plundering and
driving away their nobility, they have wreaked their
paltry spleen on the title deeds and genealogies of the

474 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
old families, and deprived the exiles of the miserable
satisfaction of knowing who were their ancestors. Yet
it will not surprise me if, as after burning the Bastille,
they have crammed Orleans with state prisoners, they
should turn the galleys into a herald's office, and, like
Cromwell, create Hewson the cobbler, and such heroes,
dukes and peers ! Thursday.
I was interrupted yesterday, madam, and am now
going to London, not as you kindly advise, because
Berkeley-square is wholesomer than the country (for to
day the weather is brave and shining, and what for want
of sterling summer, one may call — almost — hot) ; but
to receive money ; which I have not done yet from my
estate, or rather for selling one ; out of the wreck of my
nephew's fortune. Some lands that he had bought in the
Fens, to adorn the parsonage-hovel that he inhabited
at Eriswell, escaped and fell to me — by not being en
tailed, or pocketed, or remembered, and I have sold
them for two thousand guineas. This will not enrich
me, but will pay a fine for church lands that I must
renew, in addition to the incumbrances charged on me
for repayment of my own fortune and my brother's :
the latter of which I certainly did not receive, nor
either of us either, till precisely forty years after they
had been bequeathed ! How little did I think of ever
being master of fen-lands and church-lands, the latter
of which I always abominated, and did not covet the
former ! I betray my ignorance in figures and calcula
tions on every transaction ; but thank my stars, can

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 475
laugh at myself, as much as I suppose my lawyers and
agents do at me, especially when I tell them I care not
how little I receive, provided my new wealth does not
draw my private fortune into debt, which I have des
tined to those who will want it ; and therefore I still
crawl about with my pair of horses, and will not add
a postilion, till at the. end of the year I shall know
whether I really am to receive anything or not. This
is the sum of my worldly prudence, madam, and I am
as indifferent about the balance of the estate, as I was
about the title of (though not of being your ladyship's
ever devoted servant,) Orford.

LETTER CCCLXIX. Strawberry Hill, July 7, 1792.
I am bound to thank your ladyship for recom
mending the baths of Lisbon to me ; but, ah ! madam,
it is too late for iEson to try a new kettle ! I cannot
encounter the trouble and ennui of such a voyage, nor
sacrifice six months, that I may possibly possess in to
lerable comfort, for the chance of adding to my tattered
rags of life half an ell more.
So we are forced to rejoice at Lord Cornwallis's
victory over Tippoo ! —for we have usurped India till
it is become part of our vitals, and we can no more
afford to part with it than with a great artery; — and
yet one has the assurance to rail at the grand usur-
peress, who would sluice all the veins of Europe and
Asia to add another chapter to her murderous history.

476 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Well! if she dies soon, she will find the river Styx
turned to a torrent of blood of her shedding 1 What !
are there no poissardes at Petersburg ? Are they afraid
of a greater fury than themselves 1 — Or, don't they
venerate her, because she is a Mirabeau in petticoats,
and execrable enough to be a queen to their taste ?
You will smile, madam, when I tell you that t'other
day I received a letter from a gentleman of the society to
propose to me to continue my nephew's subscription to
Hawking in Norfolk. If the Antiquarian Society would
have engaged me in such a truly noble Gothic insti
tution, I should have wondered less : I am well read in
Juliana Barnes's " Boke of St. Albans," and know I am
entitled to be drawn with a hawk on my fist to mark
my nobility ; but not being much versed in the prac
tical part of the science, I shall decline enrolling myself
in the band of Falconers, till I have sued for seisin of
my other baronial and manorial honours, which I have
suffered to lie dormant, not being hitherto worth a
knight's fee — nor, in truth, having ever ambitioned to
be more than what I have been for above forty years,
a burgess of Twickenham, and a retainer of the honour
of Ampthill, and consequently
Your ladyship's poor beadsman, the late H. W.
P.S. I have this moment received a letter from
Lady Waldegrave, acquainting me with one she has
just had from Lord Cornwallis, expressing his affec
tionate remembrance of his great friend her lord, and
assuring her that for his sake he will, while he lives,
perform every office of friendship and assistance in his

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 477
power to her and her children. How very amiable in
the moment of victory to find Alexander, the conqueror
of India, thinking of writing a consolatory letter to a
widow at the other end of the world, and tying up a
branch of cypress with a bundle of laurels and boughs
of olive !

LETTER CCCLXX. Strawberry Hill, July 17, 1792.
The " Memoirs*," about which your ladyship in
quires, are probably those of a Lady Fanshaw, wife, if
I do not mistake, of a Sir Richard Fanshaw, who, if I
do not again mistake, died Minister in Spain. They
were shewn to me a few years ago, and I had been told
they were very curious, which was a little more than I
found them, though not unentertaining ; they chiefly
dwelt on private domestic distresses, and on what the
aristocrats of that time were apprehending from their
enemies, who, however, were not such tigers and
hyaenas as the French of this day. Still so few pri
vate letters of the civil war from 1640 to 1660 have
been preserved, probably from the fears of both writers
and receivers, that one likes to read any details.
The letter pretended to be written by my father to
the late King, advising a peerage to be conferred on Mr.
Pulteney, I am thoroughly convinced, is spurious ; the
length alone would be suspicious — but I have better
* These memoirs have since been published under the editorship of
Sir Harris Nicolas.

478 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
detection to offer. I was alone with Sir Robert when
he came from St. James's the last time he saw
George IL, and when he had advised the peerage in
question, of which he told me, and I have not forgotten
the action of his hand, which he turned as when one
locks a door, adding, " I have shut the door on him."
Pulteney had gobbled the honour, but perceived his
error too late, for the very first day that he entered
the House of Lords he dashed his patent on the floor in
a rage, and vowed he would never take it up ; but it
was too late — he had kissed the King's hand for it !
I am going to add two or three other paragraphs on
another article of the '' European Magazine," that sug
gested your ladyship's inquiries, but on a much more
insignificant subject, myself. You may find there a
letter signed "Scrutator," repeated from one printed
in the " Cambridge Chronicle." Both affirm a most
gross falsehood, viz., that I have denied having ever
written to Chatterton. Had I done so, I must have
been delirious, must have wantonly given myself the
lie at the very moment that my veracity was proved.
I had affirmed in my printed defence that I had
answered his first letter. The lad's mother died last
autumn, and in her custody was found that answer,
which some of the lad's partizans printed. I had
kept no copy, but it perfectly agreed with my account,
and I am persuaded was genuine. A few months
afterwards, in a subsequent Magazine, appeared a letter
signed by a barbarous name, maintaining that I had
desired my friends to declare that I never had answered

TO THE COUNTESS. OF OSSORY. 479
a letter of Chatterton. This was too absurd to deserve
notice ; but Dr. Farmer, without the smallest connec
tion with me, published a few lines shewing the impos
sibility that I could ever have expressed such a desire,
so destructive of my own cause and credit, and hinting
a very just suspicion of the unknown letterwriter, who,
I have no doubt, was the same person as " Scrutator,"
and invented the first falsehood as a ground for the
second, choosing to confound two facts that had not
the least relation to each other, and which stood thus.
Poor Barrett, author of the "History of Bristol,"
printed there two letters to me found among Chatter-
ton's papers, and which the simple man imagined the
lad had sent to me, but most assuredly never did, as
too preposterous even for him to venture, after he had
found that I began to suspect his forgeries ; for
instance, he had ascribed the invention of heraldry to
Hengist, and of painted glass to an unknown monk in
the reign of King Edmund. On seeing those marvel
lous productions, I wrote to Dr. Lort declaring I never
had received those two letters, and begging he would
affirm so. This denial is now converted into a denial
of a letter I did write, and have declared I did ; and
for all this blundering and incredible falsehood I am
persuaded I am obliged to Dr. Glynn, an old doting
physician and Chattertonian at Cambridge. But I have
too much contempt both for him and anonymous
writers, who, by concealing themselyes, betray a con
sciousness of guilt, to make any reply, though I am
persuaded that a farther forgery hereafter is meditated,

480 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
by the pains that have been taken to bolster up the
present plan by authenticating my handwriting before
a notary public, though I certainly never denied it,
and do believe it mine, though I have not seen it, by
its agreeing with my own account of the substance.
What solemn folly ! what transparent artifice ! but, as
my kind letter of advice to Chatterton was probably
found too among the lad's papers, and is not published,
though I have demanded it should be, I conclude it is
meant, when I shall be no more, to produce a forged
one of no kind complexion. But who will believe it
mine ? I don't say but those who forge it will assert
their belief of it ; but my antagonists having displayed
too much propensity to charge me, it is totally incre
dible if they were in possession of a scrap that would
hurt me, that they would suppress it ; and therefore,
as similitude of hands may be forged, no notary public
will persuade any fair person that a harsh letter, cir
cumstantiating my want of truth, and which I have
dared and defied any person possessed of such a paper
to exhibit publicly, could exist, and would not have
been produced to my confusion while I am living.
When I shall be dead it can only recoil on the fabricators,
and therefore I shall beseech your ladyship to preserve
this letter, and permit it to appear, if you shall ever
hereafter see such a false accusation arise, as, on my
honour, I assure you it must be, if a letter of advice
from me to Chatterton does not appear as kind as a
parent or guardian could have written to that rash and
unhappy adventurer.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 481
I beg a million of pardons for troubling your lady
ship with this detail, and still more with this request ;
but, as I have declared in print that I would enter no
more into that strange and silly controversy, and as I
scorn to stoop to answer nameless antagonists, I pre
sume to deposit my defence, should it ever be neces
sary, in such noble and friendly hands as your lady
ship's, and leave Dr. Glynn and such contemptible
adversaries to wage war without an opponent, like a
man that plays at cards alone, right hand against left
— very merry pastime ! Your ladyship's most devoted.
Orford.

LETTER CCCLXXI. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 18, 1792.
I have wanted to write to vent myself, madam,
but the French have destroyed the power of words ;
there is neither substantive nor epithet that can
express the horror they have excited ! Brutal insolence,
bloody ferocity, savage barbarity, malicious injustice,
can no longer be used but of some civilised country,
where there is still some appearance of government.
Atrocious frenzy would, till these days, have sounded
too outrageous to be pronounced of a whole city — now
it is too temperate a phrase for Paris, and would seem
to palliate the enormity of their guilt by supposing
madness the spring of it — but though one pities a herd
of swine that are actuated by demons to rush into the
sea, even those diabolic vagaries are momentary, not
VOL. II. i i

482 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
stationary ; they do not last for three years together,
nor infect a whole nation — thank God ! it is but one
nation that has ever produced two massacres of Paris !¦
I have lived too long ! I confess I did not conceive
how abominable human nature could be on so extensive
a scale as from Paris to Marseilles ; nor indeed so
absurd. I did not apprehend that you could educate
and polish men, till you made them ten times worse
than the rudest ignorance could produce. I have been
shocked at scalping Indians — but I never despised
savages, because they are only cruel to enemies, and
have had no instruction, nor means of it — it is well for
them ! — A band of philosophers, academicians, and
pedants would train them in few years to be systematic
wolves and tigers ; would teach them to contradict all
their own professions and acts ; to provoke the most
injudicious wars ; to wish to be a republic and massacre
800 republicans in a morning of a country whose forces
and intrepidity they ought to dread ; and to pull down
one prison where there were but six men confined, and
turn a large city (Orleans) into a jail, cram it with
prisoners whom they never dared to try, because pro
bably guiltless ; and thence sentence them all to be
massacred at once, because — who can imagine why,
unless that the Parisians were not drunk enough with
blood !
But of all their barbarities the most inhuman has
been their not putting the poor wretched King and
Queen to death three years ago! If thousands have been
murdered, tortured, broiled, it has been extempore ;

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 483
but Louis and his queen have suffered daily deaths in
apprehension for themselves and their children. Oh !
that Catherine Slay-Czar had been Queen of France
in the room of Antoinette. I do not say it would have
been any security for her husbands life ; but it would
have saved thousands and thousands of other lives, and
preserved the late new, amiable, and disinterested Con
stitution of Poland. Well, that fury of the North has
barefaced her own hypocrisy— she pretended to give a
code of laws to her ruffians, and to emancipate their
slaves, and now plunges the poor Poles again into vas
salage under a vile system !
" Esse aliquos manes et subterranea regna
Nee pueri credunt nisi qui nondum eere."
that is, who have not the brazen front of Catherine.
Did you read, madam, the beautiful protest of Mala-
chowski, the Marshal of the Diet ? I am glad some
sweet herbs spring up amidst so many poisonous
plants. The Austrian and Prussian for confederating
with Catherine deserve only to be saved to scourge
France. Their declaring against conquest for them
selves, but assures me more of their meaning it ; and
partitioned I hope France may be : it will be better for
the French ; a smaller kingdom may have some free
dom, — if French can deserve to be free ; a vast king
dom cannot be ; and it would be better for Europe,
and for us, too, though, thank them, it will be long
before they can or will do anything but sluice their
own veins ! They are cursed with infernal Phoenixes ;
a Petion springs from a Mirabeau's ashes ! What a
i i 2

484 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
nation they are ! Even their vanity amidst all their
miseries and disgraces is not to be allayed, is unalter
able. T'other night, at the Duke of Queensberry's, the
Viscount de Noailles, one of the hottest heads of the first
National Assembly, but who is come hither, I believe,
despairing of the cause, desired to be presented to me.
I knew him when he was here formerly, and in France,
but did not intend to remember him. In a tone
of much civility and compliment he said, " Vous avez
fait de grandes avances." I did not guess what he
meant. He continued : " Oui, vous Stes fort avances
dans les vitemens, dans la nourriture." I believe he
thought he remembered that we used twenty years
ago to wear goat-skins, and live upon haws and acorns.
I saw he meant to be civil, so would not answer, " Oui,
nous sommes le plus fiorissant pais de I'Europe.'"
You will like a speech of Lord William Gordon.
Madame de Gand, the duke's passion, in one of these
hot evenings, had the fire lighted, and was sitting with
her back to it, literally on the hearth. Lord William
said, " I see the duke likes his meat over done."
Madame de Coigny, who is here, too, and has a great
deal of wit, on hearing that the mob at Paris have
burnt the bust of their late favourite, Monsieur d'Epre-
menil, said, "// n'y a rien qui bride sitdt que les
lauriers sees."
I recollect that your ladyship bade me answer Mrs.
Somebody's novel called "Desmond." Indeed, I can
not — I have never seen it, nor ever will. I neither
answer Dr. Glynn, nor a poissarde. Twenty years ago

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY 485
I might have laughed at both ; but they are too little
fry, and I am too old to take notice of them. Besides,
when leviathans and crocodiles and alligators tempest
and infest the ocean, I shall not go a privateering in
a cock-boat against a smuggling pinnace, any more
than I would have subscribed my silver shoe-buckles or
cork-screw with my Lord Mayor and Co., to save
Poland from an army of 200,000 Russians. Adieu, madam.

LETTER CCCLXXII. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 4, 1792.
I should have been very happy, madam, if your
ladyship's attendance on Lady Ravensworth would
have allowed you to honour me with a visit as Lord
Ossory did : I did not know she had been ill, and am
rejoiced to hear of her recovery.
The day before yesterday I had been out for half an
hour, and at my return found at my gate the attorney-
general and Lady Louisa, and, to my great surprise,
Lady Sutherland and her eldest boy, though they had
arrived from Paris but two nights before. It proves
the great tranquillity and courage with which her
ladyship behaved there, when, after so long an absence
and such scenes of horror, she is calm enough to have
a mind to see my house. I had the honour of know
ing her a little, and of dining with her before the
embassy, but little thought of seeing her here at this
moment. She is much improved in beauty. Lord

486 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Strathearn is a very pretty child, and so impregnated
with what he has seen and heard, that he was surprised
at seeing no cannon in the streets of London, and
asked the attorney-general where they were ; and per
ceiving some points of rails higher than others, he
said — "but there are pikes here ! " I believe he would
have found none, nor cannon, at Warsaw, had Cathe
rine Slay-Czar suffered their glorious constitution to
take place. When your ladyship's querists will shew
me a glimpse of resemblance between the Diet of
Poland and the former National Assembly in France,
even from their outset, I will for that moment of
similitude, if it can be discovered, admire the latter
as I adore the former : but I am no dupe to words,
nor honour the term Revolution for the mere sound.
A revolution is not to be commended for simply
overturning a government, though as bad as that of
France was. A mob, or a czarina, or janizaries, can
destroy good or bad. A revolution, before it has any
claim to praise, must give a better government, and
that can only be done by integrity, wisdom, and tem
per, as our revolution did, and as the generous and
disinterested Poles would have done — sed diis aliter
visum ! I should rather say diabolis. Pedantry, ac
tuated by envy and every species of injustice and
barbarity, and impregnated with vanity and insolence,
and void of any plan but that of seizing power, and, I
believe, plunder, were not likely to produce patriots,
and, still less, legislators. Accordingly, beginning by
disregarding and disobeying that first groundwork of

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 487
liberty, the intentions and instructions of the whole
nation their constituents, they hurried into contradict
ing their own decrees as fast as they made them, pro
nounced property sacred, and seized it everywhere,
declared for universal peace, and usurped Papal and
German dominions, proclaimed everybody at liberty to
live where they pleased, but burnt their houses and
forced them to fly, and then confiscated their estates if
they did not return at the hazard of their lives. The
option of perjury or starving was another benefit
bestowed on all the conscientious clergy. The Bastille
(where only six prisoners were found, rather a mode
rate number for such a capital as Paris,) was destroyed,
and every other prison was crammed, nay, the city of
Orleans was turned into a vast jail, whence nobody
was even indulged with a trial ; and, at last, by every
species of artifice, falsehood, and imposture, the philo
sophic legislators, and their excrements the clubs, have
worked themselves and the people up to such a pitch
of infernal frenzy, that they have produced a second
St. Barthe"lemi, and realized what has been thought a
legend in history — in short, a whole senate has assumed
the accursed dignity of the "old man of the moun
tain," and spawned a legion of assassins ! and with still
more impudence, for he did not proclaim his mandates
openly for the murder of princes and generals.
The former National Assembly did not commit all
these atrocious enormities, but they led the way, and
checked none. Did they punish the barbarities at
Avignon and at other places ? What excesses did they

488 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
disapprove ? What liberty did they "confer, but that
of leaving every man free to hang and murder whom
he pleased ? In short, madam, they have blasted and
branded liberty — perhaps for centuries — and for that
and their barbarity, I abhor them ; and by destroying
their own country — who can foresee for how long ?
Posterity will look on them with horror ; and their
not having in three years of convulsions produced one
man, but the villanous Mirabeau, eminent for abilities,
on the contrary, legions of folly, absurdity, and igno
rance, will give future generations as much contempt
for the French, as devout people have for the Jews.
If anybody from such a mass of detestable proceed
ings can pick out a moment where I am to stop and
admire, and where I am to divide my partiality to the
Poles with the revolutionists in France, or to rank the
Barnaves, Lameths and Noailleses with that true patriot
Malachowski, whose honest and humane protest brought
the tears into my eyes, I will confess that I have been
blind for a moment ; or I will even go so far as to say
for the term revolution —
" Quod si non aliam venturo fata Neroni
Invenere viam — Scelera ipsa nefasque
Hac mercede placent."
The Polish revolution and ours were noble, wise and
moderate — wise because moderate ; but to subvert all
justice and order for pedantic and speculative experi
ments, without having anything to substitute in their
places, as their contradictions have demonstrated, is the

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 489
acme of folly, incapacity and ignorance of human
nature ; and I shall take leave to despise the late au
gust diet — the present is below contempt ; and if the
nation ever recovers its senses, it will be ashamed of
descending from such progenitors. Adieu, madam ; but
pray set me on writing no more declamations.

LETTER CCCLXXIII. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 10, 1792
Madam, I return the inclosed* as soon as I can, not
thinking it at all right to keep it — indeed, it frightens
me ; but I hope you will not treat my poor rhapsodies
in the same manner : they are always the skimmings of
my thoughts at the moment of writing, and the next
day I do not at all recollect what I have written. Above
all things, I would not have the presumption even to
seem to enter into a controversy with Mr. Fitzpatrick ;
I have too high an opinion of his parts and wit to
think myself in any degree a match for him — half
superannuated as I know myself, I should yield to
understandings much inferior to his. Indeed, I always
do shun disputes. Whatever can be known to a cer
tainty, is known ; what cannot be, may never be de
cided. I have another cogent reason for avoiding dis
putation ; I may very likely, in arguing, set out in the
wrong ; and if I do, I am pretty sure of remaining
so, as one grows partial to one's own arguments.
* None with the MSS.— Ed.

490 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
How long the French remained in the right at the
beginning of the Revolution, may be a question — if they
are so still, and if the butchery of 4000 prisoners, men
and women, untried, is a necessary and common con
sequence of reformation or self-defence — mercy on me !
— I shall be persuaded that I am a good deal more than
half superannuated, for I certainly cannot beat any
such horrible opinion into the head of my Whiggism.
I know I have always been a coward on points of
religion and politics. Above twenty years ago, in a
conversation on those topics with that speculative
heroine, Mrs. Macaulay, I shocked her by avowing, that
had I been Luther, and thoroughly convinced — a little
more perhaps than he was, that I should be perfectly in
the right in attacking the church of Rome, yet could I
have foreseen (and perhaps he ought to have foreseen)
that in order to save the souls of as many unborn
millions as you please, I should be the occasion of
spilling the blood — come, I will be moderate, and say,
of only three hundred thousand living persons, I should
have boggled, and nothing but a very palpable angel
indeed, with a most substantial commission from
heaven, would have persuaded me to register my patent
in the chancery of my conscience, and set about the
business. For the hosts of assassins at Paris I think them
palpable devils ; and a little worse than the spiritual
ones, of whom we are told. They corroborate too an
old axiom, that extremes meet : enthusiasm and philo
sophy are those extremes, and have proved of the same

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 491
trade. What can be said for the late massacres at
Paris, and those that have been raging for three years
there, at Avignon, Marseilles, kc., that is not pleadable
for the St. Barthelemi, for the slaughter of the Vaudois,
for the destruction of the Mexicans and Peruvians, and
for the ravages by Mahomet and the Ottomans '? — Why,
certain men, Charles IX., Philip IL, Louis XIV., and
their similars, thought they were warranted to sacrifice
any number of their fellowcreatures, in order to make
other numbers something happier — in the sentiments
of those self-constituted executioners. For the people
of France, till they were told otherwise by the philo
sophers, I doubt a little whether they were a quarter
so unhappy as they are at present, especially having
had that singular felicity, as Frenchmen, of thinking
that France was in every point preferable to the rest
of the universe. But here I will stop, and neither now
nor any more touch on the subject. My opinions are
for myself. I meddle not with those of others, nor are
they of importance to me, who have so little time to
remain here. I am only concerned to have a worse
opinion of mankind than I thought it possible to
conceive, or than any reading had given me, for this
last butchery in the prisons, was, as far as I know,
unparalleled. The story of the " old man of the
mountain" and his assassins was rife at the time of the
crusades : I do not recollect at this moment in what
books it is to be found. They are, I believe, men
tioned by Joinville, and perhaps in general dictionaries
— posterity will find the revival of them in the records

492 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
of the most august diet in the world, and in all the
histories of the Revolution in France !
In the midst of these atrocious scenes, it is impos
sible now and then not to smile, not only at the
egregious follies and puerilities of the Assembly and
its tribunes, whose panic and despair break out in
insolence, while no enemy is actually in sight, and
who butcher women because they dread the Duke of
Brunswick ; but collateral incidents are too ludicrous
not to check one's sighs, and loosen one's muscles. In
the midst of the massacre of Monday last Mr. Merry
immortalised, not by his verses, but by those of the
Baviad, was mistaken for the Abbe Maury, and was
going to be hoisted to the lanterne. He cried out he
was Merry the poet — the ruffians who probably had
never read the scene in Shakspeare yet replied, " then
we will hang you for your bad verses" — but he escaped
better than Cinna, I don't know how, and his fright
cost him but a few gossamery tears — and I suppose he
will be happy to recross the silky ocean, and return to
shed dolorous nonsense in rhyme over the woes of this
happy country.
P.S. — I was a hearty American, madam, as you
know well, and never heard of massacres there in
cold blood ; and Poland shewed that revolutions may
be effected without assassination. The French have
stabbed liberty for centuries, and made despotism itself
preferable to such tyrannic anarchy. Muley Ishmael,
King of Morocco, it is true, used for a morning's ex
ercise to dispatch a dozen or two of his subjects ; but

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 493
he would have been sadly tired and overheated if he
had aimed at lopping a fourth or even an eighth part
of the heads that fell in the prisons at Paris on the
bloody Monday ; and besides Muley's victims thought
it a mighty honour, if not the high road to Paradise, to
die by the royal hand. I scarcely think that the
Parisian butchers meant any favour to those they
sacrificed, though they cut the throats of 120 poor
priests, who had preferred beggary to perjury and
violation of their consciences. If liberty can digest
such a hecatomb without kicking, she must have a
pretty strong stomach — not Catherine of Russia a
stronger. I wish she had been Queen of France for
the last three years ! — Your ladyship's devoted, &c.

LETTER CCCLXXIV. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 8, 1792.
Oh ! madam, your ladyship, and even I, did not
wait for my own favourite echo. I did stay before I
replied, till I was certain of the capture of Dumou-
rier's army. Alas ! echo has responsed in a very dif
ferent tone ! It is the Duke of Brunswick who has
retired ! What a thunder-clap ! The cannibals tri
umph, and unless they devour one another, behold a
republic of 20,000,000 of assassins ! This retreat is
so astonishing, that one can only stare ! — How unlike
to his campaign in Holland ! What massacres may it
not produce in France, and what mischiefs in Europe !

494 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
Even that wretch, Philip TEgalite*, will triumph, and
be proud of the trousers he wears, that he may be sans
culottes. I have seen the Duchesse de Fleury, who is much
the prettiest Frenchwoman I ever beheld. Though
little, and more than nut-brown, she is perfect of her
size, with very fine eyes and nose, and a most beautiful
mouth and teeth, and natural colour. She is but two
and twenty, very lively, and very sensible. I could
not help describing her, she struck me so much ; but I
mentioned • her because she told me she lived close to
the Abbaie, and heard the cries and groans of 120
priests that were butchered there : what will be
come of her and all the fugitives ! She gave a watch
of thirty guineas for a passport to the director of
the municipality ; for their thirst for blood can be
staunched by their thirst of gain ; and one may trust
that thirst of power and of gain will whet their
daggers against one another.
You are in the right, madam, not to wade into
your forest. Though the rain is abated, the sun has
not dried his rays, for he has not appeared even in
his usual October.
I know not a syllable of English news; and am
afraid of going to Richmond to see the poor French
colony since this fatal piece of news. — What an era !
• — Adieu, madam. — Your ladyship's most devoted.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 495

LETTER CCCLXXV.
Sunday night late, Oct. 14, 1792.
I have been two or three times going to answer
your letter, madam, but what can I say that you
have not thought, or conjectured ? And of news I know
not a tittle. The French mail was yesterday thought
to be stopped, and to-day the eternal rain has pre
vented my seeing anybody but Mrs. Damer, who came
from Goodwood, and has left me. Nor am I impatient
to learn what cannot be good — whence can good come
now ? The dragon's teeth are drawn and on the
ground, but will not produce new armed men ! I
wish I could avoid thinking, for I hate to wade into
new chaos — or form fresh conjectures, after being so
wofully disappointed in the most promising — or why
should I ? It is no longer probable that I should live
to see but a short way into the confusions that may
open. May I be deceived on one hand, as I have
been on the other ! Whether there have been quarrels,
treachery, ignorance, folly, or sheer misfortune, how
can I pretend to know ? Who will own any but the
last ? And when so many thousands are interested
to propagate falsehood, and so many more will coin
their own guesses into assertions, or affirm from the
slightest authorities, simple as I sit here, I must wait
for facts, for reason I am sure cannot help one.
I have heard what your ladyship hints about
Ireland, and think the proceeding most abominable

496 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
and most absurd, and far more likely to bring on the
mischief they pretend to apprehend. The Dissenters
will embrace the Catholics there, though persecuting
and decrying them here. I differ so much from the
remonstrants, that I should have thought it wise in
government to disperse the poor fugitive priests amongst
their Irish brethren, to exhibit and detail their own
woes and sufferings, and warn the Catholics against
aiding the Dissenters to demolish all government, all
religion, and all professions — indeed, everything !
For the French priests, I own I honour them — they
preferred beggary to perjury, and have died, or fled
to preserve the integrity of their consciences. It cer
tainly was not the French clergy, but the philosophers,
that have trained up their countrymen to be the most
bloody monsters upon earth. To the persecuted
priest, I am half ready to say with Felix, " almost
thou persuadest me to be — a Catholic."
Now I am forced by the subject to turn to what is
ludicrous, Lord Cliefden's fraction of a subscription —
surely the duchess must have dictated it, or nobly
given some old quarter moidores that would not go.
I have reserved my donation for the second subscrip
tion, for charity is apt to cool before the second call,
and then the second may be wanted, and the first has
been noble and ample.
I did not mention Miss Knight's " Marcus Flaminius "
to your ladyship because it is dedicated to me, and my
very just commendation of it would have looked like
vanity, at least like partiality — since I must name it,

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 497
I do protest I think it a wonderful performance. There
is so much learning and good sense well digested, such
exact knowledge of Roman characters and manners,
and the barbarian simplicity, so well painted and
made so interesting, that it is impossible not to ad
mire the judgment and excellent understanding of the
authoress, though as a novel, which it can scarce be
called, it is not very amusing. There is an old Gothic
chieftain, whose story is very affecting ; and there is
a Greek who, you will find, madam, is the most faulty
part of the book, though well levelled, but he achieves
extreme improbabilities — I will not forestall how. I
ought not to omit how Roman the style is, without
pedantry. You will wonder, madam, how the book
came to be addressed to me by a lady I never saw,
and barely knew existed in Italy by hearing Miss
Berry talk of a mad Lady Knight, with a learned
daughter there. Last winter Lord Ailesbury brought
me the MS., begged I would read it, and give him
my opinion of it, which I was most unwilling to
undertake. Yet as his lordship has at different times,
though little acquainted with him, shewn me much
partiality and many civilities, I could not refuse. I
did read, and was so surprised at a work so far above
what I expected, that I declared my approbation in
strong terms. I was much more astonished when his
lordship said, that if I liked it, he was commissioned
to ask my consent to its being dedicated to me. I
pleaded every argument I could devise against such a
destination. At last I thought of one that seemed
VOL. II. K K

498 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
infallible vis-d-vis a favourite servant of the queen. I
said Miss Knight was such an honour to her sex, that
"Flaminius" deserved the patronage of her Majesty.
Alas, Miss Knight had already enjoyed that honour — I
suppose through the same god-father — she had written
a sequel to Rasselas, and it had the Queen's sanction —
I had no subterfuge left. Monday noon.
The newspaper is just arrived as the post is going
out, and has brought such a load of bad news, and I
know nothing else, that this time I will wait for the
echo — adieu ! madam.

LETTER CCCLXXVI. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 29, 1792.
I did conclude, madam, that the gloomy com
plexion of the times was the cause of your ladyship's
silence, as it has been of mine. Not possessing Ovid's
flow of expression, I cannot vary my phrases de Tris-
tibus ; and my reasoning and experience have been so
baffled for these last three months, that I scarce allow
myself to form a conjecture ; and if I do, I resolve
not to vent it ; but to compose my patience, and wait
— not only for events, but for their confirmation, as
truth seems to have taken flight, as much as common
sense, and which I regret still more, humanity ! Was
it possible to imagine that philosophy was to plunge

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 499
the dagger into the entrails of civilization ; and that
assassination was to grow contagious ? This is such a
bloody anatomy of human nature and unfolds such
horrid seeds in its darkest recesses, that from thinking
ill of this or that nation, I am driven to shudder for
our species, and if I could be content with the specu
lation, would fain persuade myself that some blasting
influence has blown over Europe, and that the plague
has assumed a new modification. But this is a rhap
sody breathed from the shocks my feelings have re
ceived. — When I cool, I have better hopes. I trust
that the abominable have rashly let out indications of
their intentions. I did not doubt but that their
secret machinations were eager and industrious, and I
feared they would not appear openly, till fully pre
pared. I feared, too, that despondency prevailed —
but, as evident symptoms of what has been meditated
have appeared, I trust a firm spirit is arising, and that
men will be prepared to meet the danger with courage
and resolution. Dejection is the colour that must
encourage the evil-minded. This is a brief abstract,
madam, of my thoughts ; whole pages more would but
turn on the same axis ; and I am too weary of my
own thoughts to have pleasure in spreading them on
paper. I am still here, and very well. The weather, which
your ladyship dislikes, has been so mild here, after the
worst of all summers, that whole November has ap
peared to me delightful ; and if December is not worse
tempered, I shall not think of removing to London yet,
K K 2

500 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
where I have outlived most of my particular acquaint
ance, and I cannot form new amongst those whom I
cannot meet till midnight. I have here society enough
around me, and at home I have always amusements. In
town I have nothing to employ me, nor anything I
wish to do.
I remember the St. Legers your ladyship recollects,
but know nothing of the present breed.
I am sorry you are so little satisfied with " Marcus
Flaminius : " it has faults, yet I own I thought it would
have been more successful. Perhaps in the former part
of my letter I may have been talking what will look
like sense, as it coincides with your ladyship's senti
ments. I have now a mind, according to my old propen
sity, to utter a little nonsense ; and what is more foolish
than to prophecy ? In short, from much meditation
on the present aspect of the world, and from looking a
good deal forwarder than the actual conflict of chaos,
and its settlement into the Lord knows what — but sub
side at last the jarring elements of anarchy must — I have
taken it into my head that some totally new religion
will start up. The crimes and distresses of mankind
will fit them for receiving some new impression, if
violent and novel enough ; and when they have had all
morality and justice eradicated out of their hearts, and
shall find that promised liberty and equality have made
them but more uncomfortable than they were, with the
additional load of guilt on their consciences, they will
listen to any new-fashioned plan of repentance, and
still more readily to any new-built paradise that will

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 501
compensate for the destruction of all that was desirable
on the present earth. Having no system ready to offer
to the world, and being quite content with the honour
of prediction, I shall take my leave of your ladyship,
trusting that you will feel a little obliged to me for
having selected you for the first communication of my
" Novum Organum," which, like Lord Bacon's, will cer
tainly be dilated by future projectors, though without
the credit of original discovery. — Yours, &c. Orford.

LETTER CCCLXXVII. Strawberry Hill, Dec. 7, 1792.
Your ladyship has made me smile beyond my
Lord Chesterfield's allowed simper, by sending me to
take my seat in the House of Lords out of tenderness
for my character ; if serious, I should not doubt your
sincerity ; but as you can look grave and soften
your voice, when you have a mind to banter your
friends, I rather think you were willing to try whether
I have the lurking vanity of supposing myself of any
importance. Indeed I have not ; on the contrary, I
know that having determined never to take that
unwelcome seat, I should only make myself ridiculous,
by fancying it could signify a straw whether I take it
or not. If I have anything of character, it must dangle
on my being consistent. I quitted and abjured Parlia
ment near thirty years ago : I never repented, and I
will not contradict myself now. It is not in the

502 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
House of Lords that I will rise again ; I will keep my
dry bones for the general review day. A good lady
last year was delighted at my becoming a peer, and
said, " I hope you will get an Act of Parliament for
putting down Faro." As if I could make acts of Parlia
ment ! and could I, it would be very consistent too in
me, who for some years played more at Faro than any
body. A wholesome spirit is arisen, and no wonder. The
French have given warnings enough to property to put
it on its guard. I have been too precipitate in my
predictions, and therefore am cautious of conjecturing ;
yet, if my reasoning was too quick, it was not ill-
founded ; and as famine is striding over France, delu
sion's holiday will stop short, and give place to bitter
scenes at its native home, which may save Europe from
returning to primitive desolation. Abominable as the
government of France was, it is plain that speculative
philophers were the most unfit of all men to produce a
salutary reformation. The French, by antecedent, as
well as by recent proofs, have never been fit to be
unchained at once, so innate is their savage barbarity.
What ignorance of human nature to proclaim to
twenty-four millions of people, that all laws are impo
sitions ; and what medium have those mad dictators
been able to find between laws and the violence of
force ? They will experience the reign of the latter ;
and perhaps go through all the revolutions of military
despotism that have afflicted Egypt for so many ages.
If my memory does not fail me, the shepherd kings of

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 503
that country, who I suppose were philosophers, were
the first tyrants deposed. Accustomed to cut the
throats of their sheep, and versed in nothing but star
gazing, and hoisted from poverty to power, I do not
wonder they applied their butchering knife to their
subjects, and massacred away, that the rest of their
people and flocks might have fairer equality of pasture.
— Condorcet is just such a shepherd.
The city of London does not seem at all disposed to
be reformed by the Academies de Sciences et de Belles
Lettres. I always thought those tribunals most imper
tinent ; but did not just conceive that they would spawn
legions of Huns and Vandals ; but extremes meet, and
incense and assassination have sprung out of the same
dunghill ! The servility and gross adulation of that
nation persuaded their kings that they were all wise
and omnipotent ; and their kings being but men, and
French men, no wonder they were intoxicated and
arrogant. Is not Dumourier already a sketch of Louis
Quatorze ? And is not every brawler in the National
Assembly as vain and insolent as Marshal Villars who,
though having witnessed all the victories and modesty
of the Duke of Marlborough, plumed himself more on
one very inferior combat, gained after Marlborough was
withdrawn, than our hero did after years of success !
Knowing a little of human nature, as I have lived to
do, and how unfit one man or all are to be trusted with
unlimited power (and consequently I remain neither a
royalist nor a republican), I must admire our own
constitution, that invented, or rather has formed, three

504 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
powers, which battling one another with opinions, not
with force, are more likely to keep the balance fluctu
ating than to make one scale preponderate by flinging
the sword, like Brennus the Gaul, into the one that he
chose should be the heaviest.
I wish there were any other topic of discourse than
politics ; but as one can hear, one can talk nor think
on anything else. It has pervaded all ranks and ages.
A miss, not fourteen, asked Miss Agnes Berry lately
whether she was aristocrat or democrat ? And a
waiter at the "Toy," at Hampton Court, said of a
scraper at the last ball, that he had a fine finger on
the organization of a violin. It is provoking that
we should catch even their fashionable and absurd
pedantry ! Adieu ! madam !

LETTER CCCLXXVIII. Berkeley Square, Jan. 8, 1793.
I return your ladyship's kind wishes for the new
year ; and may it prove more felicitous to mankind, as
well as to us individuals, than the last bloody months
have been — not that I could feel commiseration for
hosts of assassins, were the hour of punishment and
retribution to arrive before this time twelvemonth.
Orleans, Condorcet, and such monsters — for oh ! there
are many almost as execrable — have dammed up every
vein that would have throbbed ; if they were doomed
to execution, I should not feel for Marats and Robes-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 505
pierres ; yet they were only low natural Frenchmen,
and only wanted to be invited to massacre their coun
trymen. It is those on whom Heaven had showered
its best blessings and gifts, whom I abhor for their
cool, premeditated, cowardly crimes. Mr. Craufurd has
brought over tales of new horrors. They now seize
the estates of those they have butchered, as of Monsieur
de Clermont, and say they do not know of their being
dead, but believe they are emigres. Condorcet, who
is believed to have suggested, or been dipped, in the
murder of the Due de la Rochfoucault, had fallen in
love with a girl without a fortune, and whom he could
not afford to marry ; the Duchesse d'Anville, mother
of the due, gave him a hundred thousand livres, that
he might marry her, as he did. I should not believe
this charge, if Condorcet, in the National Assembly,
had not said, on their receiving a present of a bust of
Brutus, " why send us a head of Brutus ? We do not
want that ; why not rather give us a bust of Anker-
strom?" The basest of all assassins, who loaded his
pistol with crooked nails ! Can the extremest credulity
of charity haggle about believing any villany of such
a fiend ?
To complete the trium diaboliad of Ankerstrom and
Condorcet, hear the claim of Orleans. Ten days ago
General Conway dined at Lord Rawdon's with the
Prince of Wales, the Abbes de St. Far and St. Alban,
natural brothers of Orleans, Monsieur de Bouille" and
his son, and other French, some of whom told this
anecdote ; that early in the revolution Orleans was con-

506 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
certing a plan for the murder of the king. One of the
company said, " but, sir, you will certainly be detected."
" No," said Beelzebub, " for I will have St. Far stabbed
too, and nobody will suspect me of being concerned in
the murder of my own brother too." The two brothers
neither contradicted the story, nor seemed sorry it was
told ; nor, doubtless, would it have been related in
their presence, unless it had been certain that they
would not be offended. Pray observe, madam, that I
never call his serene highness Egalite, for that pre
tended humility is presumption. He can have no
equal, who is below all mankind.
I less wonder at their atheism than at all the rest ;
such infernals can believe in no hell, unless, like
Belphegor, they came thence themselves.
If my mind broils with detestation, it has room left
for admiration too. The poor King I have long thought
the best natured and most inoffensive of men ; and
what a recompense for restoring the ancient parlia
ments, without which he might have remained despotic
to this hour ! On that recall somebody wrote under
the statue of Henry Quatre, on the Pont Neuf, this
beautiful word, Resurrexit. Henry was stabbed in the
midst of that vile town. Resurrexit is forgot, and
Louis has been tortured for above three years, and may
be torn to pieces in the same shambles !
For the Queen, she has passed a like succession of
ordeals, and come out whiter than snow. Though
three National Inquisitions have had the members and
papers of the chatelet, and all evidences living or

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 507
written in their hands ; though every page and cham
bermaid of the unfortunate Antoinette has been in
their power too, with the use of torture too, has a
single stain been fixed on her — though scandal had
spared none ! I will not turn my eyes homewards, as
I wish such scenes should be unparalleled out of France.
But alas ! have we not hands amongst us that have
been ready to grasp daggers likewise ?
Lord Edward is certainly married to Pamela, and
Mrs. Genlis, alias Sillery, alias Brulart, as she would
be styled at the Old Bailey, is going to live with them
in Ireland. Did you hear Lord Darnley's answer to
Lord Henry, who told him he had expunged his sup
porters on his chariot, and asked, " if he would not do
so too ?" "No," said Lord Darnley, "I would not blot
out my supporters, unless they were monkeys" — the real
supporters of the Fitzgeralds — -how lucky !
Of my own health, I thank your ladyship, I have no
reason to complain : I slept last night near ten hours,
though three times twenty-five years of age ; is not that
being well enough? I hope you and yours, madam,
will be wished happy new years at as late a period !

LETTER CCCLXXIX.

Strawberry Hill, Sept. 6, 1793.
I was not sorry, madam, at not hearing from your
ladyship for some time, as I was totally unable to have
answered you with my own hand, and not much more

508 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
capable of dictating to Kirgate. I have been very ill
with the gout for above a month : it began in my right
hand, a middle finger of which opened, and dis
charged a sharp -pointed chalk-stone, that literally
weighs four grains and a half; but it is quite healed,
and as you see I am writing with it. It was more pro
voking, that the left hand, that had nothing to do in
the quarrel, would meddle too, yes, and produce chalk
from the middle finger likewise, but scarce having
wherewithal revenged itself upon the whole hand,
wrist, elbow, and shoulder, on that side ; and it was
but this morning that I moulted my bootikin, and
could get on a warm glove.
These are the miserable anecdotes of the prison-
house of your correspondent, madam ! Judge then if I
can make any other reply to your kind invitation to
Houghton Ampthill, but that I am not likely to make
any more journeys but my last ! A travelling quarry
would be a great natural curiosity — but I am not am
bitious of being recorded in the Philosophical Trans
actions — my executors, if they please, may contribute a
print of my singular specimen of chalk.
For the sake of others I am sorry that pretty outside
is demolished, and that Mr. Holland has so much of the
spirit of a lucrative profession in him, as to prefer
destroying to not being employed.
The portrait, shooting with a cross-bow, I should
rather suppose, not having seen it,* to represent Prince
Henry than King James. The prince is often drawn
* This picture taken from Houghton, is still at Ampthill Park.— Ed.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 509
as using some activity. There are two pictures of him,
one at St. James's, and the other at Lord Guildford's,
at Wroxton, where with Lord Harrington of Exton, he
has just killed a deer. At the other painting it is
impossible I should guess ; and if it exhibits any of
Dente's extravagances, I wish not to see it.
The letter, which I return, by the help of Mr. Lysons
the divine, who is with me to-day, I can inform your
ladyship is a most insignificant, grandmotherly epistle
to Lord Bruce (afterwards first Earl of Ailesbury), from
his Grannum Magdalen daughter of Sir Alexander
Clarke, and talks of his lady mother, and lady aunt,
and of his tutor, though he had a lady wife.
Of the nation of infernal monsters I desire to talk no
more than your ladyship. Would I could avoid think
ing on them ! Oh ! what would I not give to hear the
Queen was dead without being murdered !
An account is come of the sudden death of Lord
Buckinghamshire : he had the gout in his foot, dipped
it in cold water, and killed himself; nobody can play
such tricks with impunity but I. Mrs. Hobart is now
countess, with a coronet I believe little gilt : Norfolk -
coronets scarce pay for the fashion.
I have railed at our summers to your ladyship :
this has been a superb one, and has constantly,- con
trary to the practice of its predecessors, recovered its
temper instantly after the hardest showers of rain ;
consequently the verdure and leafage are in the highest
perfection : my eyes have been delighted, though my
limbs suffered ; one must comfort one's self with what

510 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
one can. I hope you have no occasion, madam, to
search for succedaneums !

LETTER CCCLXXX.
Strawberry Hill, Nov 2, 1793.
I certainly, madam, told you nothing about the
Queen of France but what you did or might know as
well as I, that is from the newspapers, my sole channel
of intelligence. How it should be possible for me to
tell you any destination on the fate of Madame Eliza
beth, I cannot divine : who can do more than guess ?
And that must be in one of the extremes — no possible
reason for murdering her there can be ; but as what
ever can be conceived of most horrible, is most pro
bable to happen from the frantic fiends at Paris, the
more shocking the crime the more it is to be expected,
and therefore I beg to say no more on so horrible a
subject. I do nothing but try to read whatever I can
suppose will lead my thoughts a moment from such
detestable scenes.
Your ladyship knows well how hastily and incon
siderately I write ; it is generally as impossible for me
to recollect the next day what I have said in a letter
of the preceding, as what I wrote a twelvemonth ago.
I have been trying to recall what I could say about
Richmond Park, and I do suppose that on your telling
me of the havoc made round Farming- Woods, I replied
that I conceived how I should feel if the wood in the
Park was to be cut down.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 511
Lady Waldegrave has been with me two or three
days, and left me yesterday morning. I have seen
nobody else since Tuesday. — What can I have to say ?

LETTER CCCLXXXI.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 10, 1793.
I return your ladyship the lines, as you ordered,
and do not recollect having seen them before. They
may have been written by Mary, for I think she did
write some French verses ; and, if she did write these,
very poorly too, both as to the language and poetry,
as far as I can read them, for they are very badly
transcribed. They ought to be well authenticated, if
the original paper exists. Has it lain at Fotheringhay
till now, and yet is preserved, and was never seen
before ? I am a little incredulous, and as incurious,
for the lines only excite compassion, no admiration.
I am much obliged to your ladyship's inquiries. I
cannot say I am very well ; yet as I am not likely at
my age to improve, it is not worth a new paragraph :
nor can I send you one that deserves to be sent. I have
not seen a face these three days but of my own servants ;
and the wheelbarrow that carries away the dead leaves,
passes its time in a livelier manner than I do. I might
seek for more diversion ; yet not being at all convinced
that I should find it, I am content to let the days pass
as they please ; and when they bring me no disturb
ance, I am not of a temper to invent any for myself.

512 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
If old folks would be satisfied with tranquillity, they
would find more of it attainable than any former objects
of their pursuits. Nature furnishes them with insensibi
lity to others ; but then they are often apt to substitute
the love of money for the love of their friends, and are
so foolish as not to reflect that every half-year's interest
of their money costs them half a year of their life. I
don't know whether any moralist ever made this reflec
tion ; if there did, it has been like other truths, of little
effect. The French philosophers take another method :
they do not demonstrate the inefiicacy of moralizing.
On the contrary, lest it should have any operation, they
expunge all morality and attempt to establish universal
liberty by destruction of all religion, and all the terrors
of futurity. Men would certainly be perfectly free, if
restrained by no government without, and by no appre
hensions within. The system is a vast experiment.
Fortunately, many of the inventors have been, and pro
bably more of its propagators will be, the victims of
such diabolic tenets : and as some axioms still main
tain their solidity, that of extremes meeting grows every
day more uncontrovertible. Turkish despotism, that
depopulated so many beautiful provinces and islands
for the mere luxury of retaining the useless soil, is
copied continually by French democracy ; and the con
vention exults in the destruction of Lyons, and their
own cities and towns, as if they had put all Vienna to
the sword. It would be curious, could one know, of
the supposed twenty-four millions of inhabitants of
France five years ago, how many it has lost by emigra-

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 513
tions, banishment, massacres, executions, battles, sieges,
captives made, &c. ; and by what is never counted in
wars, the hosts of families of peasants, whose cottages
and hovels have been destroyed by foragers and march
of armies. Famine too, I suppose, could produce a
long bill of those that have fallen in her department:
There is another item not yet felt, but that will be
a heavy one. It is allowed that all the new levies that
have been forced to the frontiers, especially to Mau-
beuge, are lads of fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen years
of age. This is some drawback on population.
One might make some deduction from the extinction
of the species by the cessation of monastic vows ; but
they had ceased to a considerable degree before the
Revolution. When I was last at Paris, I had observed
how rarely I met a monk or friar about the streets, and
made the remark to a very intelligent person, asking
him whether the writings of Voltaire and the philoso
phers had made the religious ashamed or unwilling to
appear in public ? " No," said he, " but those writings
have - done much more : they have so damped profes
sions, that few men make the vows. In that convent,"
said he, pointing to a very large one in the Rue St.
Denis, " there are literally but two friars." This is a
curious fact, madam, and I am glad I have scribbled
till I recollected it. It will make you some amends
for the rest of my common-place.

vol. n. & L

514 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCCLXXXII.
Berkeley Square, Dec. 9, 1793.
Your ladyship will forgive me for not thanking
you for the paper you were so good as to send me, and
for not answering your letter sooner, when you hear
that for this fortnight I have had a surgeon daily
attending one of the chalk-mines in my right hand,
which, though it does not absolutely hinder my
writing, as you see, obliges me to write so slowly, and
consequently better than I usually do, that I could
engrave a letter in less time. I might have employed
Kirgate ; but I hate to dictate, when not actually
forced. Lady Compton's letter I saw many years ago, and
think it has been in print since more than once,
particularly, I believe, in the " Gentleman's Ma
gazine." It will not sound much of a tone with my excuse,
when I say that I have been twice at the play since I
came to town the week before last ; but not being yet
reduced to walk on all-fours or not walk at all, and
getting a charitable hand to lead me in and out, I did
venture, and yet shall not commit such juvenilities
again in haste ; nor have I so little shame as to laugh
at a much younger man thinking of mounting tiger,
ridicule in myself appearing more terrible to me than
in any other man, as I am always warning myself
against it. I met Mr. G. about a week ago, and said

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 515
to the person next me, " I am glad no caricaturist is
present; he would certainly draw Mr. G. and me
like the old print for children of Somebody and
Nobody." The Berrys are in Yorkshire, and have been so these
four months. I have never so much as seen the per
son of Mallet du Pan's book ; I read very little now,
and only for amusement, as it is too late to be im
proving myself for another world. I have found out
another occupation that employs a good deal of my
useless time, which is sleeping. As I have the happy
gift of going to sleep whenever I shut my eyes, I do
not throw it away, but prefer it to hundreds of books,
which would only have the same effect, with more
trouble to my lame fingers. These last implore your
ladyship's pardon for saying no more, and are your
most devoted, though inactive servants, &c.

LETTER CCCLXXXIII. Berkeley Square, Dec. 26, 1793.
You are too good, madam, in giving yourself the
trouble of inquiring after my decays. As they are not
so rapid as I might reasonably expect, they are not
worthy of interesting any body ; and while seldom
attended by pain, I have little cause for complaint.
I am glad Lord and Lady Warwick are pleased with
their new villa : it is a great favourite with me. In
my brother's time I used to sit with delight in the bow-
LL 2

516 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
window in the great room, for besides the lovely scene
of Richmond, with the river, park, and barges, there is
an incessant ferry for foot passengers between Rich
mond and Isleworth, just under the terrace ; and on
Sundays Lord Shrewsbury pays for all the Catholics
that come to his chapel from the former to the latter,
and Mrs. Keppel has counted an hundred in one day,
at a penny each. I have a passion for seeing pas
sengers, provided they do pass ; and though I have the
river, the road, and two foot-paths before my blue room
at Strawberry, I used to think my own house dull
whenever I came from my brother's. Such a par
tiality have I for moving objects, that in advertise
ments of country-houses I have thought it a recom
mendation when there was a N.B. of three stage
coaches pass by the door every day. On the contrary, I
have an aversion to a park, and especially for a walled
park, in which the capital event is the coming of the
cows to water. A park-wall with ivy on it and fern
near it, and a back parlour in London in summer, with
a dead creeper and a couple of sooty sparrows, are my
strongest ideas of melancholy solitude. A pleasing
melancholy is a very august personage, but not at all
good company. I am still worse, when I have so little
to say ; but indeed I only meant this as a letter of
thanks for your kind inquiries after my lame hand, of
which my surgeon has taken leave this morning.
Your ladyship's most obliged, &c.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 517

LETTER CCCLXXXIV. Jan. 30, 1794.
Lord Ossory was so good as to lend me the in
closed amusing paper, and ordered me to send it to
your ladyship. I cannot take up my pen, which I have
totally laid aside but for the most urgent letters of
business (and yet most of those are consigned to Kir
gate) without adding a few words, though when Lord
Ossory is in town, he knows ten times more than I do,
who only catch some rebounds from newspapers, and
believe few or none till they have been repeated till
they are stale.
Political news now occupying half the face of the
globe, a great part of the geography of which I have
forgotten, are much too extensive for my digestion ;
and the home-manufacture of novelties are become
almost indifferent to me, for living so much out of the
world, the very persons of most of the actors are perfect
strangers to me : they are the grandchildren, and great
grandchildren of my former intimates. Those of my
past time that did remain are dropping round me, and
though chiefly mere acquaintance, they leave gaps in
my narrow society, which I cannot fill with their
descendants. Lord Buckinghamshire, Lord Digby,
Lord Barrington, Lady Greenwich, Lord Pembroke, Sir
Charles Hotham, were on the stage when I frequented
it, and, though the vacuum they have made, will not
be perceived a month hence, they occasion one in my

518 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
memory ; and when one is become a rare remnant of.
one's contemporaries, I should think it unnatural, at
least it is so to me, to interest one's self in the com
mon occurrences of the world. And, if one is little
touched by them, one is certainly little qualified to
amuse others. This is my apology to your ladyship
for being so remiss in the correspondence with which
you so long were pleased to honour me. I have not
lost my spirits, but my activity is gone, and it is
grown pleasant to indulge my indolence, of which for
more than threescore years and ten I had no idea.
In real regard, I am as much as ever, your lady
ship's devoted humble servant.

LETTER CCCLXXXV. Strawberry Hill, July 22, 1794.
I return the inclosed, madam, as I ought : it
could not add to the contempt I have long felt for the
instigator, — it suits well with his theologic writings,
and pacific principles.
I had the pleasure of meeting Lady Warwick lately
at her next door neighbour's, Lady Bute's, and she has
promised me the honour of coming to see my house,
but I have not been to wait on her yet from the ex
cessive heat of the mornings. I little thought I should
live to complain of the violence of an English summer,
but this has been so torrid as to make me seriously ill
— though I believe less from its warmth than from my

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 519
own extreme weakness. I have of late years been
subject to great palpitations, and they come more fre
quently and last longer. The wise in life and death
insist they are only nervous ; however I was seized
with one on Saturday night, which continued so stormy
that at four in the morning I was forced to send a
man and horse to Twickenham for the apothecary,
having such acute pain in my breast with it, that I
concluded it the gout, and a warrant for me. Before
he could arrive, I had a slight vomiting, fell asleep for
four hours — and am here still ! This is a pretty history
to trouble your ladyship with, yet I know nothing
else but what every body knows or does not know
from the newspapers, and that mass is much too vast
for speculation : it is a stupendous and horrible chaos,
and I know not out of what ark a Noah is to dispatch
a dove with an olive branch, nor where he will find
one to gather, — roots and branches all seem to be
plucked up !
Lord Hugh and Lady Horatia were here three days
ago ; she had left her poor sister Waldegrave the day
before, who is all she is or can be yet, composed.
Lord Hertford has acted with great nobleness to
wards his brothers and sisters. It is pleasant to have
virtues and heroism and great qualities to relate of
this country, when fiends and furies rage in the rest of
Europe. — Your ladyship's most devoted.

520 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
LETTER CCCLXXXVI.
Strawberry Hill, July 29, 1794.
The letter which I return, madam, is indeed a
very proper one, and the writer, Lady Maria, a very
sensible girl. Her father doted on her. Lady Walde
grave admires her reason and quickness, but will not
spoil her. Unfortunately for herself she was grown
fondest of the poor boy, whom she has just lost so
lamentably ; and I am sorry to hear that she does not
recover the shock so well as we had flattered ourselves
she would : but I will say no more on anything
relating to myself, into which your ladyship's strange
partiality is too apt to betray me (witness your last
flattering note), but to send you a codicil to the im
pertinent account of my late illness, but in which not a
grain relates to me, except as being the subject of it.
The very next morning after I was taken ill at
Richmond, I heard from that fertile fountain of false
hood and tittle-tattle, that it was said, I had been
walking on rough ground, and had fallen down over
two rats, and could not rise again (the only circum
stance that would have been probable), and that a
man passing by (which shews the scene was laid in
the high road, where neither rats nor I commonly
make a promenade), helped me up, and that being
struck with gratitude to this neighbour of the Gospel,
I asked him what service I could do for him in return ?
He replied, he should think himself fully recompensed
if I would give him a perpetual ticket for seeing

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 521
Strawberry Hill whenever he had a mind. Invention,
I believe, never flowed more spontaneously nor with
greater velocity. Would not one think that this was
a commonly dead summer ? that France was perfectly
calm, ay, and Flanders too, and Holland perfectly
safe ; that all the Northern Monarchs were kept from
the dusty field ? that there was nothing at sea but
my father's Spithead Expeditions. Would to heaven
there were not! and that Mrs. Fitzherbert and Lord
Howe are as satisfied as if both were nodding under
ostrich feathers ! The Richmond tale is like those
we used to receive from Cork, when there was not a
tittle of news stirring in London. Good night, madam!

LETTER CCCLXXXVII. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 3, 1794.
I should heartily wish your ladyship joy, madam,
of Lord Ossory's new honour,* if you were in the
humour to be pleased with it ; but as you are not, I
must content myself with congratulating him most
cordially, and thanking him for notifying it to me
himself. You are sure that / must feel for him the
happiness of being released from the House of Com
mons, and from the servility of courting popularity
for a county election. If some vile French-hired
newspapers should abuse him, it will prevent their
applauding him, which is scandal indeed! Every
thing dear to man is at stake, and whoever is young
enough to serve his country in any situation, ought,
* An English Peerage. — Ed.

522 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
and deserves thanks for supporting the Government,
and binding himself to it. Is Robespierre a disin
terested man ?
I am not at all surprised at Lord Macartney's mis
carriage; nor can help admiring the prudence of the
Chinese. They would be distracted to connect with
Europeans, and cannot be ignorant of our usurpations
in India, though they may be ignorant of Peruvian
and Mexican histories, and the no less shocking trans
actions in France. But I will say no more : I try to
turn my thoughts from the present scene ; declama
tion would not relieve them.

LETTER CCCLXXXVIII. Park Place, Sept. 4, 1794.
I could not thank your ladyship sooner for giving
me notice of your campaign, as you did not specify
your head-quarters, and I am sadly ignorant of mi
litary stations ; but Marshal Conway tells me I may
safely direct my letter to Lord Ossory, at the camp
near Harwich, and that it will certainly reach the
commandant's lady.
I love discussions, that is, conjectures, on French
affairs no more than you, madam ; yet I cannot but
look on Robespierre's death as a very characteristic
event, I mean, as it proves the very unsettled state of
that country. It is the fifth Revolution in the go
verning power of that country in five years ; and as
faction in the capital can overturn and destroy the

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 523
reigning despots in the compass of twelve months, I
see no reason for expecting anything like durability
to a system compounded of such violent and pre
carious ingredients. Atrocious a monster as Robes
pierre was, I do not suppose the alleged crimes were
true, or that his enemies, who had all been his ac
complices, are a whit better monsters. If his bar
barities, which were believed the sole engines of his
success, should be relaxed, success will be less sure ;
and though lenity may give popularity to his suc
cessors, it will be but temporary— and terror removed,
is a negative sensation, and produces but very tran
sient gratitude ; and then will revive unchecked,
every active principle of revenge, ambition, and fac
tion, with less fear to control them. I will pro
phesy no farther, nor will pretend to guess how long
a genealogy of revolutions will ensue, when they
breed so fast, before chaos is extinct.
Lady Waldegrave, I do believe, madam, is com
posed, and acts most reasonably; Miss Hannah More
has been with her, and has given me verbally a most
satisfactory account of her.
If I live so long, I shall hope to have the honour of
seeing more of Lady Warwick next summer. I found
the same amiable sweetness and gentleness with which
I used to be well acquainted at Ampthill years ago.
The " History of the House of Brunswick" I have not
seen. It is much the report that we are going to know
more of that stock ; but I am perfectly ignorant
whether there is any foundation for that rumour.

524 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
I have read some of the descriptive verbose tales, of
which your ladyship says I was the patriarch by seve
ral mothers. All I can say for myself is, that I do
not think my concubines have produced issue more
natural for excluding the aid of anything marvellous.
From hence I can tell your ladyship nothing new,
but that the alterations and additions to the house
have made it a delightful one, and worthy of the
place. I shall return home the day after to-morrow}
and am always, madam, your most devoted.

LETTER CCCLXXXIX. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 6, 1794.
Lady Malpas was a formal good sort of woman,
madam, of whom I did not see much, as we had never
lived in the same kind of society. She was an ex
cellent daughter to a very aged mother, whom the
King has good naturedly said, shall retain the lodgings
at Hampton Court for her life. Lord Cholmondeley
has been as meritorious a son, as Lady Malpas was a
daughter : he has been as kind a brother too and
uncle to two very handsome nieces, who with their
mother have been abroad with him. I could not
help saying thus much in return to your ladyship's
compliment. Lady Bute, I fear, is going. It will, indeed, make a
new gap in my life, as, since her lord's death, she has
always been at home in an evening. Having come into
the world when there were such beings as women that

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 525
did grow old, she had remembered that odd fashion,
and did not set out at midnight for all the crowds in
town. But I am talking like Methusalem, and no
wonder, for I have tapped my seventy-eighth year,
and like other veterans, who think that all the man
ners, customs, and agreeableness, were in perfection
just when they were one-and-twenty, and have de
generated ever since, I am lamenting the loss of my
contemporaries, as if the world ought to be peopled by
us Strulbrugs. It would be a dull world indeed, and
all conversation would consist of our old stories, which
I cannot think with the newspapers make us venerable,
but tiresome. Here am I living to see the opening of
a court of a fourth George, though I was ten years
old when I kissed the hand of the First, which young
people must think was soon after the deluge, and per
haps be desirous of asking me how soon there were
any races after the waters had subsided. It is more
surprising that your ladyship should have patience to
suffer the annals of my dotage.
Lord Ossory, I conclude, is very glad to have
changed his campaign into that against the partridges,
" And turned his harp into a harpsicord,"
but I cannot agree with your ladyship in thinking the
bickerings at Paris will come to nothing : though timid
of conjecturing after so many disappointments, I can
not conceive how, where there is no stability, there
can be a permanent Government. Till some very great
man arises — and I see none of the breed — how will the
country be settled ? Will a fluctuation of factions not

526 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
destroy all respect ? Will the contradictory reports on
the characters of every leading chieftain not confound
the armies, who already can be encouraged by nothing
but plunder? and who can remain very popular at
Paris, while decried by the remaining partizans of so
many subverted demagogues ? How long it will be
before anarchy comes to a sediment, the wisest political
chemist cannot determine ; but the workings announce
new explosions : and at least the search after the phi
losopher's stone has been as fatal to successive projec
tors, as it has been to sundry in private life — and cer
tainly has not discovered the elixir vitce.
I am not sorry, madam, that you did not visit the
ruins of Houghton, and the relics of my poor nephew's
madness, and what his friends and plunderers had yet
left to him. You would have found no flight of steps
to the front of the house, which one of his counsellors
had advised him to remove, and then begged for a villa
of his own. You say you went to another scene of
desolation, and could not help moralizing. I hold it
better to forget than to reflect : what is permanent ?
What has lasted but the pyramids, and who knows the
builder of them ? Moralizing is thinking ; and think
ing is not the road to felicity. I am even of opinion
that a line meant as severe, contains the true secret of
happiness — " In Folly's cup still laughs the bubble, Joy."
what signifies whether it be foolish or not, as long as
the bubble does not burst ; a property which the most
eminent sages have not dared to ascribe to wisdom.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 527
LETTER CCCXC.
Strawberry Hill, Dec. 8, 1794.
I am quite surprised at the constancy of your lady
ship's patience, who can still think it worth your while
to correspond with Methusalem, who know nothing of
the late world, and who have been twice shut up here
in my little ark by two new editions of the " Deluge,"
the amplest we ever knew since my grandfather Noah's,
except one twenty years ago, when the late Duchess of
Northumberland was overtaken by it on the road, and
was forced to ride with her two legs out of the windows
in the front of her post-chaise. The island over against
me has begun to emerge, but I have not seen a stripe
of a rainbow, and therefore cannot be sure that the
flood will not return. However, the season has been so
warm, that I have not thought of going to town, nor
have been there this age. Indeed, I have outlived all
my acquaintance there, and all the hours to which I was
accustomed, and it is not worth the trouble of learning
new, which I can have but short occasion to use.
Lady Bute is a great loss to me : she was the only
remaining one of my contemporaries who had submitted
to grow old, and to stay at home in an evening. Lord
Macartney I have not seen since his return ; nor scarce
any body but a few of the natives of Richmond and
Hampton Court, and they are still living on the ar
rangements of the future new court, and of those I
have barely heard their names since their christenings ;
consequently, I know little but what I remember as

528 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
an antediluvian (and that with a departing memory),
and the height of the waters as a post-diluvian.
Of the new Countess of Exeter I did hear a good
account two years ago, especially of her great humility
and modesty on her exaltation. If she is brought
into the fashionable world, I should think the Duchess
of Gordon would soon laugh her out of those vulgar
prejudices, though she may not correct her diction or
spelling. I am much obliged to Lord Ossory for his, though
vain, hunt after a portrait of Catharine Parr. I have
a small damaged one by Holbein that I believe of her,
as it resembles a whole length, called hers, too, at Lord
Denbigh's, but his Dutch mother, or more than Dutch
father, had so blundered or falsified many of the
names, though there are many valuable and some fine
portraits, that I could depend on few.
On politics I say nothing, madam, as I have no
intelligence but from newspapers, and those I seldom
believe. I can no more ride in the whirlwind than I
can direct the storm ; and the scene is a vast deal too
wide to let one scan a view from any detached head
land. I leave to history to collect the mass together,
and digest it as well as it can ; and then I should
believe it, as I do most ancient histories, composed by
men who did not live at the time, and guessed as well
as they could at the truth and motives of what had
happened, or who, like Voltaire and David Hume,
formed a story that would suit their opinions, and
raise their characters as ingenious writers. For Voltaire

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 529
with his n'est-ce pas mieux comme cela ? he avowed
treating history like a wardrobe of ancient habits,
that he would cut, and alter, and turn, into what
dresses he pleased ; and having made so free with all
modes, and manners, and measures, and left truth out
of his regime, his journeymen and apprentices learnt
to treat all uniforms as cavalierly; and beginning by
stripping mankind of all clothes, they next plundered
them of every rag, and then butchered both men and
women, that they might have no occasion even for a
fig leaf : a lovely history will that of their transac
tions be !

LETTER CCCXCI. Berkeley Square, Dec. 11, 1795.
From the little finger of my left, through all that
hand, wrist, and elbow, I am a line of gout, madam ;
and t'other morning waked with such a rheumatism in
arm ditto, that I could not turn in my bed ; having, I
suppose, caught cold by being brought to town the day
before, though, as I thought, extremely swaddled.
This account, madam, which Kirgate is forced to
write, would be a full answer to the latter part of your
ladyship's letter ; but it would be uncivil not to say a
word to the intelligence of the meeting at Bedford,
which I own does not alarm me, though it might flatter
a young duke, if he has not yet learnt that 2,000
neighbours of a very rich peer will huzza to anything
he condescends to say to them, and will sign their
VOL. II. m M

530 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
names, which they love to do if they can write, though
they don't understand a sentence of what he proposes
to them. But how many of his mob does he imagine
would, if he requested them, exchange their goosequiUs
for firelocks, unless for the purpose of shooting his
grace's game and venison 1
I am sorry he is so un- or so ill-advised. Methinks
his grace has lived long enough to have seen how men,
who have vented their first outrageous fire in politics,
can recant their declamations, and wind up their dregs
with shame and pensions.
But I will step out of my buskins, and you shall
allow me to smile at your exhortation. You tell me
it is my duty to go to the House and make a speech.
Alas ! I doubt, madam. Duty gleams but very dimly
when one is at the threshold of fourscore. Your
other arguments strike me still more faintly : as I have
none of the great abilities and renown of the late
Lord Chatham, so I have none of the ambition of
aping his death and tumbling down in the House of
Lords, which I fear would scarce obtain for me a six
penny print in a magazine from Mr. Copley.
The best use I have made of my very long life, has
been to treasure up beacons to warn me against being
ridiculous in my old age. I remember I was in bed
with the gout, some years ago, when I was told that
the late Duke of Northumberland had been at St.
James's that morning to kiss hands for being appointed
master of the horse to the King. I said, " Well, the
duke is three or four years older than I am, he has the

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 531
gout as I have, and he has the stone, which thank God
I have not. Now, should anybody come to my bed
side, and propose to me to rise and drive about the
streets in a gold glass-case, I should conclude they
had heard I had lost my senses, though I had not
discovered it myself."
Well, madam, that path of glory was not suggested
to me ; but I have been more recently tempted to
enter that Temple to which your ladyship would send
me. When my nephew died, Mrs. Epictetus Carter
came and wished me joy of my new title, and said,
" Now, I hope, you will go to the House of Lords and
put down faro."
I have dictated, madam, till I am quite exhausted,
and most probably have tired your ladyship, too, and
begging your pardon, am for once, your most dis
obedient humble servant.

LETTER CCCXCII. Berkeley Square, Dec. 26, 1795.
Lord Orford is extremely obliged to Lord and
Lady Ossory for their kind inquiries, but very sorry
they give themselves that trouble, for there is so little
amendment in his situation, and he is so very low and
weak, that it is not worth while to detail particulars.

M M 2

532 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE

LETTER CCCXCII1.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 14, 1796.
I flatter myself, or must bid adieu to all
vanities, that your ladyship will not be sorry to hear
of my resurrection, which was decided in my favour
by a few minutes on Saturday was s'ennight, by the
rapid advance of a mortification in my bowels, so that
I said to my surgeon, who was holding my clammy cold
hand, " Am not I dying ?" he replied in a despondent
voice, " I hope not ! " But my Herculean weakness,
after a struggle of two days, saved me, and I am
again in the land of living easy chairs, though still
tossed into bed by three servants ; yet, after eleven
weeks, the gout has quite left me, and had they any
marrow left in them, I could use hands or feet. I
don't mean indifferently, like Buckinger ; but you see,
I pay homage to your ladyship with the first that
revives, as you were pleased to order me to give you
the first tolerable account of myself that I could.
Here, then, I am again, having executed another por
tion of my death, which I have long reckoned every
attack is doing. I have, as I told Lord Ossory ten
days ago, patience enough, but I have not time enough
for patience, my fits return too quick to leave me
sufficient respite for recovery ; but if I am totally
disabled, I hope the passage will be but the easier ! —
I have gone through enough of the ceremony.
It is perhaps silly and impertinent to trouble your

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 533
ladyship with a detail of my own situation, yet, not
having been able for above two months even to dic
tate a passable account of myself as you desired, I
could not forget the years of correspondence with
which you have honoured me, nor bear to seem neg
lectful of that grace, when I have a finger to express
remembrance and gratitude. In fact, too, I have
always observed that persons shut up from the world,
and witnesses to few incidents but those which happen
to themselves, grow to think those events of mighty
moment, and to relate, as if novelties that could in
terest any mortal, even when passed and over. 'Tis
pity I did not recollect this remark a page sooner !
Secluded as I have lived for weeks, surely events lusty
enough and fresh enough have arrived to have pierced
even to me, and to have tinged my thoughts with
other hues than those all about myself; but pain, lan
guor, a total extinction of voice that forbad my con
versing, had rendered me inattentive : I seem to have
awaked within a few days ! — and what a mass of
topics have I found to have been in agitation ! At
tacks on the King ; storms and tempests for several
successive months, yet all seeming to belong to sum
mer rather than to winter ; dispersion and destruc
tion of navies without encounters ; conquest of the Cape
and of Trincomalee in an island with which I was
well acquainted in my fairy-days, and which was then
called Serendip ; a princess born : starvation dreaded ;
most of the King's sons wandering about the world, the
brother of the King of France lodged in Holyrood

534 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
House ; and the House of Orange in the Palace of Hamp
ton Court ; the victories of Clairfait, his armistice, and
for these last two days, the forged " French Gazette,"
announcing universal peace ; — these (only the bigger
outlines) might have shut my lips about myself. And
then for the town's menus plaisirs, there has been,
and for a little longer will be the new brazen-fronted
Shakspeare, to complete the triumvirate with Mac-
pherson, soi-disant Ossian, and Chatterton. But none
of these themes can be new to your ladyship, and I will
rest a weary hand, which for two days has been
scrawling these two sides, and I doubt, not made them
legible at last.

LETTER CCCXCIV. Strawberry Hill, July 12, 1796.
I can only thank your ladyship by proxy, for a
new mark of your accustomed kindness ; for, though I
am quite content with being here again, which I little
expected to be any more, I cannot say I find any
benefit by my removal. My fingers are rather worse
than they were, and my ankle so weak that I cannot
rest upon it a moment, though held up by two servants.
But I have all my playthings about me ; and, when
one is arrived at one's second childhood, is not one for
tunate enough in having them and being able to be
amused by them ? How many poor old wretches are
there who suffer more, and who have none of my com
forts and assistances, though probably deserving them,
which is not my case !

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 535
I try to make my soaking hay my principal distress,
for the newspapers are too vexatious ; the Austrian
campaign does not proceed with the rapidity from
which I began to expect great matters ; and the Gauls
are again dictating to the Capitol. I was so silly as to
be shocked at their plundering my favourite school,
the Bolognese, though I should never have seen it
again, when I recollected that I have lost my own
pictures at Houghton ! What signifies whether Verres
or Catherine Slay-Czar has a fine collection under the
Pole or on the Place de la Guillotine ?

LETTER CCCXCV. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 2, 1796.
Habituated as I am, madam, to your ladyship's
kindness, for I will not say how many lustrums, can I
be surprised at your repeating marks of it to my last
hours, even after I have no longer the power of
answering it with my own hand, which I could not do
with any limb, unless, like Buchinger, I could write
with my stumps. From pain, I thank God, I am free,
but in no other respect at all recovered ; nor expect to
be. I am pinned to my couch, and only move from one
side of my room to the other, like a coat of arms, by
two supporters ; and even my motto of fctri quce sentmt,
you see, madam, I must deliver by a herald.
I will say no more of myself, but to apply part of
what I have said to Lord Holland's much too flattering
mention of me. While I do remain here, I shall be

536 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
happy to be of any use to him : a superannuated
invalid would be a very unfit correspondent for a
young man of his genius ; though I shall be most ready
to answer any questions he pleases to ask me, or to
give him any information I can about past times, as
far as my memory will let me, though much decay
there must have accompanied my other defects at
seventy-nine, though love of babbling at that age is
not a common failure, nor, I fear, one of mine. Old
men are apt to think that the moment at which they
entered into the great world, was the brightest and
most agreeable period possible, and that everything
has declined as their contemporaries have gone off.
I have not contracted that opinion, for, though the
names Lord Holland has found amongst his papers
were those of shining men, I have lived to see more
marvellous talents of an earlier age, though the felicity
of those times makes me prefer the recollection of them
to the present.
Our harvests have been gorgeous, madam, indeed ;
even our farmers acknowledge it — the least they could
do to compensate for the scarcity they proclaimed last
year, and in part, I believe, only feigned. I wish
plenty may be followed by peace : i" am particularly,
at this moment, lamenting one consequence of the war,
not from weapons, but by the yellow fever of the West
Indies, which has carried off a most meritorious
nephew of mine, George Churchill. He was a major-
general, and so very spirited and brave a young man,
that every letter which during his campaigns was loud

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 537
in his praise, frequently drew tears of joy from his
father. I had flattered myself, from his aptitude and
ability in his profession, that he would prove a second
immortal Churchill : alas ! immortality has a sad
chance in a bad climate ! This reflection has persuaded
me to be of the opinion of those who have supposed
that America was a very juvenile continent when first
discovered. I never heard that Jamaica bragged of
having produced patriarchs, Methusalems, Nestors, or
old Parrs.

LETTER CCCXCVI. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 17, 1796.
I am exceedingly obliged by your ladyship's con
gratulation on the supposed safety of my nephew ; but
alas ! I am far from being convinced of it myself, nor
am I yet certain that his poor parents are satisfied
of it.
I will assuredly, madam, give what answers I can to
Lord HoUand's questions, when I have had a little time
to recollect myself ; but on reading them over, I fear
my replies will be very imperfect, for on opening the
old cupboard of my memory, I perceived its contents
were sadly confused ; and there is even one person
inquired after, a Mr. Wigan, whose person, or even
name, I do not recollect, nor ever to have heard of his
poetry ; but I will scrape together what remnants of
recollection I can, and endeavour not to remember too
minutely, as old folks are apt to do, what passed in

538 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
their earlier days, not because the circumstances were
worth being preserved, but because they had happened
in their time. However, as I can only dictate my
remembrances, it will check my garrulity a little.
Mercy on Lord Holland, if I were to answer him by
word of mouth, for every trifling fact in ancient memo
ries touches the chord of some other, and produces a
genealogy of gossiping !

LETTER CCCXCVII. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 30, 1796.
I. return your ladyship, with many thanks, Lord
Holland's pretty, easy verses, but am sorry he has
turned his talent to Greek poetry, with which, if
honoured with a sight, I should not understand a line,
having forgotten my Greek these forty years. The
conclusion to the lady is extremely genteel, and there is
great ingenuity in rhyming the absurd whims of the
Florentine philosopher. I look upon paradoxes as the
impotent efforts of men, who, not having capacity to
draw attention and celebrity by good sense, fly to
eccentricities to make themselves pointed out. It was
the delirium of J. J. Rousseau, who possessing a supe
riority of genius that might have carried common sense
to its highest perfection, often distorted by contradict
ing it and wasted on tricks and charlatanerie, medita
tions that might have led to the noblest discoveries.
While we do know so little, have cause to wish to know
so much, and have the calamity of acquiescing in so many

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 539
errors that might perhaps be exploded to the comfort
of mankind, I do not think we are arrived at that
period of the world when science and knowledge have
nothing better to do than to discover, alter, and correct,
the regular order of creation, and the mechanism and
habits of the universe and its elements.
Now, madam, with regard to Lord Holland's com
missions. Fortunately I have had a visit from Lord
Macartney, and have transmitted through him my ex
cuses to Lord Holland, not only for delaying to answer
his queries, but in reality to beg he will dispense with
my answering them in writing. Listen to my case,
madam : when I came to rummage in the old chest of
my memory, I found it so full of rubbish that when I
came to set down the contents, some of which were
imperfect remnants, I grew ashamed, and found I
should be writing an Atalantis ; and though I should,
like Brantome, protest that all my heroines were tres
dignes et tris vertueuses princesses, I should never
theless be forming a chronique scandaleuse, and not a
very delicate one, were I to answer to all the queries
which relate to a principal performer, Lord Hervey.
Still his history (with whom and with much of which I
was well acquainted,) was so curious, that I begged Lord
Macartney to tell Lord Holland, that if when I go to
town he will honour me with his company for half an
hour (out of decency I must not mention a longer space
of time, though there is no trusting to an old gossip
cock or hen, if you tap their bag of ancient tales) I
will satisfy his curiosity as briefly as I can contrive to

540 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
do, and without a tittle of invention, which at seventy-
nine I assure him I do not possess. His and your lady
ship's most obedient, &c.

LETTER CCCXCVIII.
Berkeley Square, Tuesday night, Nov. 6, 1796.
Lord Orford was struck last Thursday night by
the intense cold, which first flung him into a violent
vomiting, and then gave him great pain in both legs,
which turned into an inflammation the next day in the
right leg, and seemed tending to an abscess like that
he had in the other leg last year. In this state he was
brought to town on Friday last, with scarce the sound
of a voice, and where he is now lying on a couch in a
state of weakness and age, that keeps him from seeing
anybody, and makes him incapable of conversing on
any subjects, public or private.
All I can possibly do now, madam, is to tell your
ladyship, for the information of Mr. Watts, that Mr.
Gough's second volume of " Sepulchral Monuments of
Great Britain" is come out within these very few days.
He had sent it to me, and I found it on my table, and
it is the most stupendous and largest volume, I believe,
ever seen on this side of Brobdignag, and crammed
with prints of all the brasses of the sons of Anak.
In vol. ii. p. 309, begins a minute account in that and
several subsequent pages, of the tombs of the Percys in
Beverley Minster, with quotations from the Bishop of
Dromore, as Lforetold. My surgeon flatters me that

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 541
by fumigations, and the measures he has used, I am
likely to escape a wound in my leg.
Well, it may be so ; but your ladyship must give me
a little time, and let me retire for rest into a closet in
my coffin.

LETTER CCCXCIX. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 13, 1796.
I have very few leaves left, indeed, madam, and
feel how fast they fall ! Your ladyship's remembrance
of the perishing old trunk still, I see with gratitude,
hangs upon it and honours it like a trophy, when a
severe new blast has sadly shaken it ! I had loved the
Duchess of Richmond most affectionately from the mo
ment I first knew her, when she was but five years old;
her sweet temper and unalterable good nature had
made her retain a friendship for and confidence in me
that was more steady than I ever found in any other
person to whom I have been the most attached. It is
a heavy blow ! I had flattered myself the last time I
saw her five months ago, for she came to me twice
when I was so extremely ill last winter in town, that she
would recover. She has languished ever since, suffered
terribly, as much as could be discovered under her
invincible patience and silence ; but she is gone, and I
am still here, though above twenty years older !
The duke, who is exceedingly afflicted, and retains
all her servants, and pensioned them all for their lives,
has sent me, as the dear soul had desired him, one of

542 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
her own rings. I can never put it on my swelled
fingers, but I will for ever carry it about me, while
there is any for ever for me !
Forgive me, my dear lady, for not being able to re
strain this gush of grief when my heart was full, and
you put the pen into my hand. Though so painful to
me to write, I could not have the patience to dictate —
but I must take another day before I can finish.
Monday, 14th.
I am come to town to-day, madam, for two days, to
see Lady Ailesbury and Mrs. Damer, who are returned
from their afflicting attendance on the poor dear
duchess to the last ; her sister was the only person she
knew in those sad moments. But I will say no more ;
it is not generous to return your ladyship's kindness
by venting my sorrows on you, who cannot be interested
in them.
As you mention Lord Holland, I have heard that he
is going to live in Holland House, and to new furnish
it, on which occasion I was desired to beg Lord Ossory
to tell him that Mr. Samuel Lysons is having beautiful
carpets made of very large dimensions from the Roman
pavements, which he has lately discovered in Glouces
tershire, and of which, by their own orders, he has
carried drawings to the queen and princesses, and which
I should think would be handsome ornaments for the
spacious rooms at Holland House.
I cannot say that I admire Mr. Burke's pamphlet so
much as I expected, especially as I agree with him in
not liking our homage to the Pandaamonium. Parts to

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 543
me are very obscure : the justice done to the character
and firmness of King William is noble, but not a little
damaged and contradicted in the sequel, by telling the
directory that perseverance must succeed, and that a
great country can never want resources. If they take
those hints, I hope they will find that he is no prophet
on all sides.
For my part I know nothing, but have made one
remark as a great novelty in the present times ; there
is both a King and a Queen dead without being mur
dered.

LETTER CCCC.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 20, 1796.
Oh ! madam, you remember that I have been an
antiquary, but you forget that I am a superannuated
one, on the verge of fourscore, and that now I know no
more of what people did, and what garb they wore five
hundred years ago than if I had lived in their time, or
were acquainted with the modes in vogue at present.
If I had the impudence of an oracle, or could coin
equivocal answers extempore, I might expound Gothic
rebusses at Beverley : but alack 1 madam, I have lost
my craft, and cannot even recollect why King Stephen
rated his chamberlain for charging him all too dear for
a new pair of hosen. You may judge how unfit I am
grown to solve ancient symbols; for three days ago
I received a portly quarto inscribed " History of
Kingston on Hull," and little did I conceive that it

544 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
meant the town of Hull and not of my little neighbour
Kingston. In short, my dear madam, I am very sorry for being
so unable. to assist your ladyship's friend's friend in
decyphering the queries on which he does me the
honour of consulting me about the Minster at Beverley ;
but I will put him as well as I can into the way of
getting some information. I know nothing of the con
junction between the Percys and the Hothams, but I
dare to say that Dr. Percy, the present Bishop of
Dromore, who has taken true pains to adopt himself
into the line of the former, can tell exactly when they
conjoined : and what form of shoes the majesties of
those times wore, will probably be to be known before
Christmas, for Mr. Gough is at the eve of publishing
his second volume of "British Monuments," wherein
probably will be displayed figures of all the parts of
all ancient royal wardrobes.
You see, madam, that it is not from idleness, but
from real ignorance, that I give your ladyship's friend
such poor information ; having outlived my Vocation, I
can furnish nothing but its ashes.
Give me leave to correct a blunder I made in my
last ; I mentioned carpets made from Mr. Lysons'
Mosaic pavements ; I ought to have said oil-cloths,
which cost a great deal less.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 545

LETTER CCCCI*
Berkeley Square, Jan. 4, 1797.
Well, madam, little as I expected it would hap
pen, the French have seriously intended to invade us,
or rather you, but so clumsily, that we may rejoice at
the experiment ; and had we had a little more luck,
we might have captured half their expedition, and may
still hear of their having lost many of their ships.
Seven had nearly fallen into the mouth of Colpoys, but
were saved by a fog ; those that lay for three days in
Bantry Bay took a sudden panic and fled, as if they had
just recollected that no venomous creature can live in
Ireland. Indeed, whatever invitation they might have
received, they were received very inhospitably, not a
single crew of a ship was asked to land and drink a
glass of whisky, but the whole country was ready to
rise and knock their brains out. Those that retired
were pursued by two violent storms, and have probably
suffered like a mightier Armada. It is supposed that
this disappointed invasion was one motive to the inter
ruption of the pacification, though so wretchedly equip
ped, and so little consonant to the poverty of which
they have talked so much lately, and which has made
* Upon the MS. of this letter is written, in Lady Ossory's hand,
" Lord Orford's last letter but one in his own hand-writing." It is
remarkably firm and clear, but appears to me more like the hand of
Kirgate, which was an evident imitation of his master's. It is much
stronger and younger than that of November 13, 1796, which he says
was his own writing. — Ed.
VOL. II. N N

546 THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE
me recollect an expression which my father used on the
mobs which were raised by the distillers against his
excise bill, whom he called sturdy beggars, words re
echoed in a thousand libels.
Another motive for the dismission of Lord Malmes
bury, is supposed to be the death of Catherine Slay-
Czar ; but even that does not seem to promise much
favour to the regicides, for the new emperor has already
sent a gracious message by Simonin to Louis XVIH.,
though not very partial to his mother, since he has
buried her by his father's side, as if to recall the me
mory of his murder. Queen Elizabeth had the sense
not to vindicate Anne Boleyn.
So much for big politics : I am in your ladyship's
debt for your last inquiries after me ; I am quite out
of pain, and full as well as I am ever likely to be ;
walk again I never shall, but my invulnerable stomach,
my pulse that beats the tatoo as strongly and regularly
as a young soldier, and the governor of my citadel, I
mean my Serjeant-Surgeon Mr. Huitson, who watches
me incessantly, has removed the inflammation from my
leg, and I may last a little longer — if to see France
humbled, I shall be glad. I have great faith in our
Neptune, Lord Spencer, but even if he should destroy
the French marine, I shall dread our making a scanda
lous peace, like those of Utrecht and Paris.

TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. 547
LETTER CCCCII. Jan. 15, 1797.
My dear Madam,
You distress me infinitely by shewing my idle
notes, which I cannnot conceive can amuse anybody
My old fashioned breeding impels me every now and
then to reply to the letters you honour me with
writing, but in truth very unwillingly, for I seldom can
have anything particular to say ; I scarce go out of
my own house, and then only to two or three very
private places, where I see nobody that really knows
anything, and what I learn comes from newspapers,
that collect intelligence from coffee-houses, conse
quently what I neither believe nor report. At home I
see only a few charitable elders, except about four
score nephews and nieces of various ages, who are each
brought to me about once a-year, to stare at me as the
Methusalem of the family, and they can only speak of
their own contemporaries, which interest me no more
than if they talked of their dolls, or bats and balls.
Must not the result of all this, madam, make me a very
entertaining correspondent ? And can such letters be
worth shewing ? or can I have any spirit when so old
and reduced to dictate ?
Oh ! my good madam, dispense with me from such a
task, and think how it must add to it to apprehend
such letters being shewn. Pray send me no more such
laurels, which I desire no more than their leaves when

548 WALPOLE TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY.
decked with a scrap of tinsel and stuck on twelfth-cakes
that lie on the shop-boards of pastry-cooks at Christ
mas : I shall be quite content with a sprig of rosemary
thrown after me, when the parson of the parish com
mits my dust to dust. Till then, pray, madam, accept
the resignation of yours, &c, 0.

THE END.

Lowdon:
Printed by S. & J. Bentley, Wilson, and Fley,
Bangor House, Shoe Lane.

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