reckoned very like-you must allow for the difference that twenty years since you saw me have made. That wonderful creature Lord Ferrers, of whom I told you so much in my last, and with whom I am not going to plague you much more, made one of his keepers read Hamlet' to him the night before his death after he was in bed -paid all his bills in the morning as if leaving an inn, and half an hour before the sheriffs fetched him, corrected some verses he had written in the Tower in imitation of the Duke of Buckingham's ' epitaph, dubius sed non improbus viri. What a Noble Author have I here to add to my Catalogue! For the other Noble Author, Lord Lyttelton, you will find his work paltry enough; the style, a mixture of bombast, poetry, and vulgarisms. Nothing new in the composition, except making people talk out of character is So. Then he loves changing sides so much, that he makes Lord Falkland and Hampden cross over and figure in like people in a country dance; not to mention their guardian angels, who deserve to be hanged for murder. He is as angry too at Swift, Lucian, and Rabelais, as if they had laughed at him of all men living, and he seems to wish that one would read the last's Dissertation on Hippocrates instead of his History of Pantagruel. But I blame him most, when he was satirising too free writers, for praising the King of Prussia's poetry, to which anything of Bayle is harmless. I like best the Dialogue between the Duke of Argyll and the Earl of Angus, and the character of his own first wife under that of Penelope. I need not tell you that Pericles is Mr. Pitt.

I have had much conversation with your brother James, and intend to have more with your eldest, about your nephew. He is a sweet boy, and has all the goodness of dear Gal. and dear you in his his countenance. They have sent him to Cambridge under that interested hog the Bishop of Chester, and propose to keep him there three years. Their apprehension seems to be of his growing a fine gentleman. I could not help saying, "Why, is he not to be one?" My wish is to have him with you-what an opportunity of his

1 John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham. The epitaph is in Westminster Abbey.CUNNINGHAM.

2 The following verses are said to have been found in Lord Ferrers's apartment in the Tower:

"In doubt I lived, in doubt I die,

Yet stand prepared the vast abyss to try,

And undismay'd expect eternity!"-WRIGHT.

3 Dr. Edmund Keene, brother of Sir Benjamin, and afterwards Bishop of Ely.WALPOLE. See vol. ii. p. 318.-CUNNINGHAM.

learning the world and business under such a tutor and such a parent! Oh! but they think he will dress and run into diversions I tried to convince them that of all spots upon earth dress is least necessary at Florence, and where one can least divert oneself. I am answered with the necessity of Latin and mathematics-the one soon forgot, the other never got to any purpose. I cannot bear his losing the advantage of being brought up by you, with all the advantages of such a situation, and where he may learn in perfection living languages, never attained after twenty. I am so earnest on this, for I doat on him for dear Gal.'s sake, that I will insist to rudeness on his remaining at Cambridge but two years; and before that time you shall write to second my motions.

The Parliament is up, and news are gone out of town; I expect none but what we receive from Germany. As to the Pretender, his life or death makes no impression here. When a real King is so soon forgot, how should an imaginary one be remembered? Besides, since Jacobites have found the way to St. James's, it is grown so much the fashion to worship Kings, that people don't send their adorations so far as Rome. He at Kensington [George II.] is likely long to outlast his old rival. The spring is far from warm, yet he wears a silk coat and has left off fires.

Thank you for the entertaining history of the Pope and the Genoese. I am flounced again into building-a round tower, gallery, cloister, and chapel, all starting up-if I am forced to run away by ruining myself, I will come to Florence, steal your nephew, and bring him with me. Adieu!

MY DEAR LORD:

666. TO THE EARL OF STRAFFORD.

Strawberry Hill, June 7, 1760. WHEN at my time of day one can think a ball worth going to London for on purpose, you will not wonder that I am childish enough to write an account of it. I could give a better reason, your bidding me send you any news; but I scorn a good reason when I am idle enough to do any thing for a bad one.

You had heard, before you left London, of Miss Chudleigh's intended loyalty on the Prince's birthday. Poor thing, I fear she has thrown away above a quarter's salary! It was magnificent and well understood-no crowd-and though a sultry night, one was not a moment incommoded. The court was illuminated on the whole

summit of the wall with a battlement of lamps; smaller ones on every step, and a figure of lanterns on the outside of the house. The virgin-mistress began the ball with the Duke of York, who was dressed in a pale blue watered tabby, which, as I told him, if he danced much, would soon be tabby all over, like the man's advertisement; but nobody did dance much. There was a new Miss Bishop from Sir Cecil's endless hoard of beauty daughters, who is still prettier than her sisters. The new Spanish embassy was there— alas! Sir Cecil Bishop has never been in Spain! Monsieur de Fuentes is a halfpenny print of my Lord Huntingdon. His wife homely, but seems good-humoured and civil. The son does not degenerate from such high-born ugliness-the daughter-in-law was sick, and they say is not ugly, and has as good a set of teeth as one can have, when one has but two and those black. They seem to have no curiosity, sit where they are placed, and ask no questions about so strange a country. Indeed, the ambassadress could see nothing; for Dodington' stood before her the whole time, sweating Spanish at her, of which it was evident, by her civil nods without answers, she did not understand a word. She speaks bad French, danced a bad minuet, and went away-though there was a miraculous draught of fishes for their supper, as it was a fast-but being the octave of their fête-dieu, they dared not even fast plentifully. Miss Chudleigh desired the gamblers would go up into the garrets" Nay, they are not garrets-it is only the roof of the house hollowed for upper servants-but I have no upper servants." Everybody ran up there is a low gallery with bookcases, and four chambers practised under the pent of the roof, each hung with the finest Indian pictures on different colours, and with Chinese chairs of the same colours. Vases of flowers in each for nosegays, and in one retired nook a most critical couch!

The lord of the festival was there, and seemed neither ashamed nor vain of the expense of his pleasures. At supper she offered him Tokay, and told him she believed he would find it good. The supper was in two rooms and very fine, and on all the sideboards, and even on the chairs, were pyramids and troughs of strawberries and cherries; you would have thought she was kept by Vertumnus. Last

A staymaker of the time, who advertised in the newspapers that he made stays at such a price, "tabby all over."-BERRY.

2 See vol. ii. pp. 161, 291 and 330.-CUNNINGHAM.

3 Afterwards Lord Melcombe. He had been minister in Spain.-WALPOLE. The Duke of Kingston.-WALpole.

night my Lady Northumberland lighted up her garden for the Spaniards I was not there, having excused myself for a headache, which I had not, but ought to have caught the night before. Mr. Dodington entertained these Fuentes's at Hammersmith; and to the shame of our nation, while they were drinking tea in the summer house, some gentlemen, ay, my lord, gentlemen, went into the river and showed the ambassadress and her daughter more than ever they expected to see of England.

I dare say you are sorry for poor Lady Anson.' She was exceedingly good-humoured, and did a thousand good-natured and generous actions. I tell you nothing of the rupture of Lord Halifax's match, of which you must have heard so much; but you will like a bon-mot upon it.-They say the hundreds of Drury have got the better of the thousands of Drury. The pretty Countess [of Coventry] is still alive, was thought actually dying on Tuesday night, and I think will go off very soon.

I think there will soon be a peace: my only reason is, that every body seems so backward at making war. Adieu! my dear Lord!

667. TO SIR HORACE MANN.

Arlington Street, June 20, 1760.

WHO the deuce was thinking of Quebec? America was like a book one has read and done with; or at least if one looked at the book, one just recollected that there was a supplement promised, to contain a chapter on Montreal, the starving and surrender of itbut here are we on a sudden reading our book backwards. An account came two days ago that the French on the march to besiege Quebec, had been attacked by General Murray, who got into a mistake and a morass, attacked two bodies that were joined, when he hoped to come up with one of them before the junction, was enclosed, embogged, and defeated. By the list of officers killed and wounded, I believe there has been a rueful slaughter-the place, too, suppose will be retaken. The year 1760 is not the year 1759. Added to the war we have a kind of plague too, an epidemic fever

I

1 Elizabeth Hardwicke, Lady Anson, eldest daughter of Lord Chancellor Hardwicke, died 1 June, 1760.-CUNNINGHAM.

2 Lord Halifax kept an actress [Miss Falkner] belonging to Drury Lane Theatre; and the marriage broken off was with a daughter of Sir Thomas Drury, an heiress.—WALPOLE.

and sore throat: Lady Anson is dead of it; Lord Bute and two of his daughters were in great danger; my Lady Waldegrave has had it, and I am mourning for Mrs. Thomas Walpole,' who died of it— you may imagine I don't come much to town; I had some business here to-day, particularly with Dagge [his lawyer], whom I have sent for to talk about Sophia; he will be here presently, and then I will let you know what he says.

The embassy and House of Fuentes are arrived-many feasts and parties have been made for them, but they do not like those out of town, and have excused themselves rather ungraciously. They were invited to a ball last Monday at Wanstead, but did not go: yet I don't know where they can see such magnificence. The approach, the coaches, the crowds of spectators to see the company arrive, the grandeur of the façade and apartments, were a charming sight; but the town is so empty that the great house appeared so too. He, you know, is all attention, generosity, and good breeding.

I must tell you a private woe that has happened to me in my neighbourhood-Sir William Stanhope bought Pope's house and garden. The former was so small and bad, one could not avoid pardoning his hollowing out that fragment of the rock Parnassus into habitable chambers-but would you believe it, he has cut down the sacred groves themselves! In short, it was a little bit of ground of five acres, inclosed with three lanes, and seeing nothing.' Pope had twisted and twirled, and rhymed and harmonised this, till it appeared two or three sweet little lawns opening and opening beyond one another, and the whole surrounded with thick impenetrable woods. Sir William, by advice of his son-in-law,' Mr. Ellis, has hacked and hewed these groves, wriggled a winding-gravel walk through them with an edging of shrubs, in what they call the modern taste, and in short, has desired the three lanes to walk in againand now is forced to shut them out again by a wall, for there was not a Muse could walk there but she was spied by every country fellow that went by with a pipe in his mouth.

It is a little unlucky for the Pretender to be dying just as the

1 Daughter of Sir Gerard Vanneck.—WALPOLE.

2 Natural daughter of Mr. Whitehed, mentioned in preceding letters, by a Florentine woman.-' -WALPOLE.

3 Compare Letter to Mann, Aug. 23, 1781.-CUNNINGHAM.

Welbore Ellis, afterwards Lord Mendip, married the only daughter of Sir William Stanhope; in right of whom he afterwards enjoyed Pope's villa at Twickenham.WRIGHT.