behave in character and with character, is my first of all wishes; for then it will not be in the power of man to make you unhappy. Ask yourself-Is there a man in England with whom you would change character? Is there a man in England who would not change with you? Then think how little they have taken away!

For me, I shall certainly conduct myself as you prescribe. Your friend shall say and do nothing unworthy of your friend. You govern me in every thing but one: I mean the disposition I have told you I shall make. Nothing can alter that but a great change in your fortune. In another point, you partly

misunderstood me. That I shall explain hereafter.

I shall certainly meet you here on Sunday, and very cheerfully. We may laugh at a world in which nothing of us will remain long but our characters.

Yours eternally.

To GEORGE MONTAGU, Esq.

Arlington-street, May 10, 176-1.

I HOPE I have done well for you, and that you will be content with the execution of your commission. I have bought you two pictures, No. 14, which is by no means a good picture, but it went so cheap and looked so old-fashionably, that I ventured to give eighteen shillings for it. The other is very pretty, No. 17; two sweet children, undoubtedly by sir Peter Lely. This costs you four pounds ten shillings; what shall I do with them-how convey them to you? The picture of lord Romney, which you are so fond of, was not in this sale, but I suppose remains with lady Sidney. I bought for myself much the best picture in the auction, a fine Vandyke of the famous lady Carlisle and her sister Leicester, in one piece: it cost me nine-andtwenty guineas.

In general, the pictures did not go high, which I was glad of, that the vulture, who sells them, may not be more enriched than could be helped. There was a whole length of sir Henry Sidney, which I should have liked, but it went for fifteen

Sir Henry Sidney, the friend and confident of Edward VI., lord presi

guineas. Thus ends half the glory of Penshurst! Not one of the miniatures was sold.

I go to Strawberry to-morrow for a week. When do you come to Frogmore? I wish to know, because I shall go soon to Park-place, and would not miss the visit you have promised me. Adieu !

Yours ever.

TO THE HON. H. S. CONWAY.

Arlington-street, June 5, 1764.

You will wonder that I have been so long without giving you any signs of life; yet, though not writing to you, I have been employed about you, as I have ever since the 21st of April; a day your enemies shall have some cause to remember. I had writ nine or ten sheets of an answer to the Address to the Public, when I received the enclosed mandate.1 You will see my masters order me, as a subaltern of the exchequer, to drop you and defend them-but you will see, too, that instead of obeying, I have given warning. I would not communicate any part of this transaction to you, till it was out of my hands, because I knew your affection for me would not approve my going so far-But it was necessary. My honour required that I should declare my adherence to you in the most authentic manner. I found that some persons had dared to doubt whether I would risk every thing for you. You see by these letters that Mr. Grenville himself had presumed so. Even a change in the administration, however unlikely, might happen before I had any opportunity of declaring myself; and then those who should choose to put the worst construction, either on my actions or my silence, might say what they pleased. I was waiting for some opportunity: they have put it into my hands, and I took care not to let it slip. Indeed they have put more into my hands, which I have not let slip neither. Could I expect they would give me so absurd an account of Mr. Grenville's conduct, and give it me in wri

dent of Wales, and lord deputy of Ireland, in the reign of Elizabeth. He was the father of the celebrated sir Philip Sidney. [Ed.]

The paper here alluded to does not appear. [Or.]

ting? They can only add to this obligation that of provocation to print my letter, which, however strong in facts, I have taken care to make very decent in terms, because it imports us to have the candid (that is, I fear, the mercenary) on our side.-No, that we must not expect, but at least disarmed.

Lord Tavistock has flung his handkerchief to lady Elizabeth Keppel. They all go to Woburn on Thursday, and the ceremony is to be performed as soon as her brother, the bishop, can arrive from Exeter. I am heartily glad the duchess of Bedford does not set her heart on marrying me to any body; I am sure she would bring it about. She has some small intentions of coupling my niece and ***, but I have forbidden the banns.

The birth-day, I hear, was lamentably empty. We had a funereal loo last night in the great chamber at lady Bel. Finch's; the Duke, princess Emily, and the duchess of Bedford were there. The princess entertained her grace with the joy the duke of Bedford will have in being a grandfather; in which reflection, I believe, the grandmotherhood was not forgotten. Adieu !

To GEORGE MONTAGU, Esq.

Strawberry-hill, June 18, 1764.

I TRUST that you have thought I was dead, it is so long since you heard of me. In truth, I had nothing to talk of but cold and hot weather, of rain and want of rain--subjects that have been our summer conversation for these twenty years. I am pleased that you was content with your pictures, and shall be glad if you have begotten ancestors out of them. You may tell your uncle Algernon that I go to-morrow where he would not be ashamed to see me; as there are not many such spots at present; you and he will guess it is to Park-place.

Strawberry, whose glories perhaps verge towards their setting, has been more sumptuous to-day than ordinary, and banquetted their representative majesties of France and Spain. I had

2 Sister of the earl of Albemarle. The marriage took place on the 7th June 1764. [Ed.]

monsieur and madame de Guerchy,' mademoiselle de Nangis their daughter, two other French gentlemen, the prince of Maserano, his brother and secretary, lord March, George Selwyn, Mrs. Ann Pitt, and my niece Waldegrave. The refectory never was so crowded; nor have any foreigners been here before that comprehended Strawberry. Indeed, every thing succeeded to a hair. A violent shower in the morning laid the dust, brightened the green, refreshed the roses, pinks, orangeflowers, and the blossoms, with which the acacias are covered. A rich storm of thunder and lightning gave a dignity of colouring to the heavens; and the sun appeared enough to illuminate the landscape, without basking himself over it at his length. During dinner, there were French-horns and clarionettes in the cloister, and after coffee I treated them with an English, and to them a very new collation, a syllabub milked under the cows that were brought to the brow of the terrace. Thence, they went to the printing-house, and saw a new fashionable French song printed. They drank tea in the gallery, and at eight went away to Vauxhall.

They really seemed quite pleased with the place and the day; but I must tell you, the treasury of the abbey will feel it, for without magnificence, all was handsomely done. I must keep maigre; at least till the interdict is taken off from my convent. I have kings and queens, I hear in my neighbourhood, but this is no royal foundation. Adieu!

Your poor beadsman,

THE ABBOT OF STRAWBERRY.

P.S. Mr. T ***', 's servile poem is rewarded with one hundred and sixty pounds a-year in the Post-office.

To GEORGE MONTAGU, Esq.

Strawberry-hill July, 16, 1764.

MR. CHUTE says you are peremptory that you will not cast a look southwards. Do you know that in that case you will not

1 The comte de Guerchy, who had arrived in the October preceding, as ambassador from the court of France. [Ed.]

set eyes on me the Lord knows when? My mind is pretty much fixed on going to Paris the beginning of September. I think I shall go, if it is only to scold my lord and lady Hertford for sending me their cousins, the duke and duchess of Berwick,' who say they are come to see their relations. By their appearance, you would imagine they were come to beg money of their family. He has just the sort of capacity which you would expect in a Stuart engrafted on a Spaniard. He asked me which way he was to come to Twickenham? I told him through Kensington, to which I supposed his geography might reach. He replied, "Oh! du côté de la mer." She, who is sister of the duke of Aloa, is a decent kind of a body; but they talk wicked French. I gave them a dinner here t'other day, with the marquis of Jamaica, their only child, and a fat tutor, and the few Fitzroys I could amass at this season. They were very civil and seemed much pleased. To-day they are gone to Blenheim by invitation. I want to send you something from the Strawberry press; tell me how I shall convey it;-it is nothing less than the most curious book that ever set its foot into the world. I expect to hear you scream hither: if you don't I shall be disappointed, for I have kept it a most profound secret from you, till I was ready to surprise you with it; I knew your impatience, and would not let you have it piecemeal. It is the life of the great philosopher, lord Herbert, written by himself. Now are you disappointed? Well, read it not the first forty pages, of which you will be sick-I will not anticipate it, but I will tell you the history. I found it a year ago at lady Hertford's, to whom lady Powis had lent it. I took it up, and soon threw it down again, as the dullest thing I ever saw. She persuaded me to take it home. My lady Waldegrave was here in all her grief; Gray and I read it to amuse her. We could not get on for laughing and screaming. I begged to have it to print; lord Powis, sensible of the extravagance, refused-I insisted-he persisted. I told my lady

The duke of Berwick was introduced at St. James's on the 5th July. [Ed.]

The life of lord Herbert, of Cherbury, written by himself. Strawberryhill, 4to, 1764. This was the first edition of this celebrated autobiography. It was reprinted at Edinburgh, in 1807, with a prefatory notice, said to be by sir Walter Scott, and an edition, which also contained his letters, written during his residence at the French court, was published in 1826. [Ed.]