2

a partiality for your cousin Sandwich, who has out Sandwiched himself. He has impeached Wilkes for a blasphemous poem,' and has been expelled for blasphemy himself by the beef-steak club at Covent-garden. Wilkes has been shot by Martin, and instead of being burnt at an auto da fé, as the bishop of Gloucester intended, is reverenced as a saint by the mob, and, if he dies, I suppose, the people will squint themselves into convulsions at his tomb, in honour of his memory. Now is not this better than feeding one's birds and one's bantams, poring one's eyes out over old histories, not half so extraordinary as the present, or ambling to squire Bencow's on one's padnag, and playing at cribbage with one's brother John and one's parson? Prithee come to town, and let us put off taking the veil for another year besides, by this time twelvemonth we are sure the world will be a year older in wickedness, and we shall have more matter for meditation. One would not leave it methinks till it comes to the worst, and that time cannot be many months off. In the mean time, I have bespoken a dagger, in case the circumstance should grow so classic as to make it becoming to kill oneself; however, though disposed to quit the world, as I have no mind to leave it entirely, I shall put off my death to the last minute, and do nothing rashly, till I see Mr. Pitt and lord Temple place themselves in their curule chairs in St. James'smarket, and resign their throats to the victors. I am determined to see them dead first, lest they should play me a trick, and be hobbling to Buckingham-house, while I am shivering and waiting for them on the banks of Lethe. Adieu!

Yours,

HORATIUS.

1 An Essay on Woman, for the publication of which Wilkes was indicted in the Court of King's Bench, 21st February 1764, and found guilty. [Ed.] 1 A duel was fought, 16th November 1763, between Mr. Wilkes and Samuel Martin, esq. M.P. for Camelford and late secretary to the treasury, who having been grossly abused in the North Briton, challenged Wilkes, and wounded him severely. [Ed.]

DEAR SIR,

TO THE REV. MR. COLE.

Arlington-street, Dec. 6, 1763,

According to custom I am excessively obliged to you: you are continually giving me proofs of your kindness. I have now three packets to thank you for, full of information, and have only lamented the trouble you have given yourself.

I am glad for the tomb's sake and my own that sir Giles Allington's monument is restored. The draught you have sent is very perfect. The account of your ancestor Tuer shall not be forgotten in my next edition. The pedigree of Allington I had from Collins before his death, but I think not so perfect as yours. You have made one little slip in it: my mother was grand-daughter, not daughter of sir John Shorter, and was not heiress, having three brothers, who all died after her, and we only quarter the arms of Shorter, which I fancy occasioned the mistake, by their leaving no children. The verses by sir Edward Walpole, and the translation by Bland, are published in my description of Houghton.

I am come late from the House of Lords, and am just going to the opera, so you will excuse me saying more than that I have a print of archbishop Hutton for you (it is Dr. Ducarel's), and a little plate of Strawberry; but I do not send them by the post, as it would crease them: if you will tell me how to convey them otherwise, I will. I repeat many thanks to you.

To GEORGE MONTAGU, Esq.

Arlington-street, Jan. 11, 1764.

It is an age, I own, since I wrote to you; but, except politics, what was there to send you? and for politics, the present are too contemptible to be recorded by any body but journalists, gazetteers, and such historians! The ordinary of Newgate, or Mr. * * * *, who write for their monthly half-crown, and who are indifferent whether lord Bute, lord Melcombe, or Maclean,1 is their hero, may swear they find diamonds on dung-hills; but you will excuse me, if I let our correspondence lie dormant

1 A celebrated highwayman. [Ed.]

rather than deal in such trash. I am forced to send lord Hertford and sir Horace Mann such garbage, because they are out of England, and the sea softens and makes palatable any potion, as it does claret; but, unless I can divert you, I had rather wait till we can laugh together: the best employment for friends, who do not mean to pick one another's pocket, nor make a property of either's frankness. Instead of politics, therefore, I shall amuse you to-day with a fairy tale.

I was desired to be at my lady Suffolk's on new year's morn, where I found lady Temple and others. On the toilette, miss Hotham' spied a small round box. She seized it with all the eagerness and curiosity of eleven years. In it was wrapped up a heart-diamond ring, and a paper in which, in a hand as small as Buckinger's, who used to write the Lord's Prayer in the compass of a silver penny, were the following lines:

Sent by a sylph, unheard, unseen,

A new year's gift from Mab our queen:
But tell it not, for if you do,

You will be pinch'd all black and blue.
Consider well, what a disgrace,

To shew abroad your mottled face:

Then seal your lips, put on the ring,

And sometimes think of Ob. the king.

You will easily guess that lady Temple was the poetess, and that we were delighted with the genteelness of the thought and execution. The child, you may imagine, was less transported with the poetry than the present. Her attention, however, was hurried backwards and forwards from the ring to a new coat, that she had been trying on when sent for down; impatient to revisit her coat, and to shew the ring to her maid, she whisked up stairs; when she came down again, she found a letter sealed, and lying on the floor-new exclamations! lady Suffolk bade her open it here it is :

Your tongue, too nimble for your sense,

Is guilty of a high offence;

Hath introduced unkind debate,

And topsy-turvy turned our state.

2 Niece of the countess of Suffolk. [Ed.]

3 Anna, one of the daughters and co-heiresses of Thomas Chambers, of the county of Middlesex, esq., and wife of Richard Grenville Temple, earl Temple, to whom she was married, 9th May 1737. [Ed.]

By jove and jealousy well placed.

"What sport to see proud Oberon stare,

"And flirt it with a pet-en l'air!”

Then thrice she stamp'd the trembling ground,

And thrice she waved her wand around;
When I, endow'd with greater skill,
And less inclined to do you ill,
Mutter'd some words, withheld her arm,
And kindly stopp'd the unfinish'd charm.
But though not changed to owl or bat,
Or something more indelicate;
Yet, as your tongue has run too fast,
Your boasted beauty must not last.
No more shall frolic Cupid lie

In ambuscade in either eye,

From thence to aim his keenest dart

To captivate each youthful heart:

No more shall envious misses pine

At charms now flown, that once were thine:

No

more, since you so ill behave,

Shall injured Oberon be your slave.

The next day my lady Suffolk desired I would write her a patent for appointing lady Temple poet laureate to the fairies. I was excessively out of order with a pain in my stomach, which I had had for ten days, and was fitter to write verses like a poet laureate, than for making one; however, I was going home to dinner alone, and at six I sent her some lines, which you ought to have seen how sick I was, to excuse; but first, I must tell

you my tale methodically. The next morning by nine o'clock Miss Hotham (she must forgive me twenty years hence for saying she was eleven, for I recollect she is but ten), arrived at lady Temple's, her face and neck all spotted with saffron, and limping. “Oh, madam!" said she, "I am undone for ever if you do not assist me!" "Lord, child," cried my lady Temple, “what is the matter?" thinking she had hurt herself, or lost the ring, and that she was stolen out before her aunt was up. "Oh, madam," said the girl, "nobody but you can assist me !" My lady Temple protests the child acted her part so well as to deceive her. "What can I do for you?" "Dear madam, take this load from my back; nobody but you can." Lady Temple turned her round, and upon her back was tied a child's waggon. In it were three tiny purses of blue velvet; in one of them a silver cup, in another a crown of laurel, and in the third four new silver pennies, with the patent, signed at top, Oberon Imperator and two sheets of warrants strung together with blue silk according to form; and at top an office seal of wax and a chaplet of cut paper on it. The warrants were these:

From the Royal Mews :

A waggon with the draught horses, delivered by command

without fee.

From the Lord Chamberlain's Office:

A warrant with the royal sign manual, delivered by command without fee, being first entered in the office books.

From the Lord Steward's Office:

A butt of sack, delivered without fee or gratuity, with an order for returning the cask for the use of the office, by command.

From the Great Wardrobe :

Three velvet bags, delivered without fee, by command.

From the Treasurer of the Household's Office:

A year's salary paid free from land-tax, poundage, or any other deduction whatever, by command.

From the Jewel Office:

A silver butt, a silver cup, a wreath of bays, by command without fee.