the children call the parson and clerk. Alas! the rest of our old ladies are otherwise employed; they are at the head of fleets and armies. Pray tell me something of yourself and concerns, Madam.

1842. TO THE REV. WILLIAM MASON.

Sept. 5, 1779.

WHAT can I write when I know nothing, and believe little that I hear? Winds and naval manœuvres I do not understand. Every body contradicts every body, and each new moment the last. Last week the enemies were between our coast and our fleet, and that was bad. Now our fleet is at Portsmouth, and the enemies nobody know where, and this is bad. Sum total-we are in a very bad condition, where nothing mends it. It is lucky for you that I cannot crowd my thoughts into a letter, nor can choose to which to give the preference. It is almost insupportable to see England fallen so low -fallen! It dashed itself down: no laws of gravitation could have thrown it so low in a century. It would strip itself of men, arms, wealth, fleets, to conquer what it possessed. It would force its friends to be its foes, that it might plunder them, and prevent their continuing to enrich it; and then when a neutral power, much more inclined to peace than war, would have extinguished the conflagration -bounce! you may be our enemy too if you please. There! There is room for meditation even to madness! I am very far from well in body too. All the summer I have been tormented off and on with the gout in one of my eyes, which is now quite removed, but in the garb of rheumatism has fallen on my hip, and confines me to my house, so that I am a chaos of moral reflections. I am trying to extract an elixir of resignation, but as Cato and Brutus themselves allow one not to be perfectly philosophic, that is indifferent to the ruin of one's country, I am in a very Christian mood about personal sufferings, but cannot find a text in the New Testament that bids me not care what becomes of England when I am gone; unless silence gives consent. Adieu! Yours most cordially,

H. WALPOLE.

1843. TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY.

Strawberry Hill, Sept. 11, 1779.

THE British flag is indeed strangely lowered, Madam. I used to say the English flag; but since disgrace is our lot, I am very willing

that the Scotch, who have occasioned, should partake of it. The accounts from the West Indies are much more creditable, and the loss of the enemy much the more considerable—at least, the Gazette is to say so to-night. For my own part, I am not at all sorry of Sir Charles Hardy's inaction, not loving a va-tout.

You may imagine how much my feelings sympathise with your Ladyship's. Jersey rankles the most of all.

arm.

This is all I can write at present, having no use but of my right The other is all gout, but I flatter myself it will not be a long fit, though my nights have been very painful. Your kind invitation to Ampthill, Madam, adds to my woes. I do not think I shall ever be able to go any whither on pleasure more. week of perfect health together, nor have strength to recover in the intervals. There is nothing shocking in decay, when one has outlived the glory and prosperity of one's country.

I never now have a

1844. TO THE HON. H. S. CONWAY.

Strawberry Hill, Sept. 13, 1779.

I AM writing to you at random; not knowing whether or when this letter will go but your brother told me last night that an officer, whose name I have forgot, was arrived from Jersey, and would return to you soon. I am sensible how very seldom I have written to you-but you have been few moments out of my thoughts. What they have been, you who know me so minutely may well guess, and why they do not pass my lips. Sense, experience, circumstances, can teach one to command one's self outwardly, but do not divest a most friendly heart of its feelings. I believe the state of my mind has contributed to bring on a very weak and decaying body my present disorders. I have not been well the whole summer; but for these three weeks much otherwise. It has at last ended in the gout, which to all appearance will be a short fit.

On public affairs I cannot speak. Everything is so exaggerated on all sides, that what grains of truth remain in the sieve would appear cold and insipid; and the great manoeuvres you learn as soon as I. In the naval battle between Byron and D'Estaing, our captains were worthy of any age in our story.

You may imagine how happy I am at Mrs. Damer's return, and at her not being at Naples, as she was likely to have been, at the

dreadful explosion of Vesuvius.' Surely it will have glutted Sir William's rage for volcanos! How poor Lady Hamilton's nerves stood it I do not conceive. Oh, mankind! mankind! Are there not calamities enough in store for us, but must destruction be our amusement and pursuit ?

I send this to Ditton, where it may wait some days; but I would not suffer a sure opportunity to slip without a line. You are more obliged to me for all I do not say, than for whatever eloquence itself could pen.

P.S. I unseal my letter to add, that undoubtedly you will come to the meeting of Parliament, which will be in October. Nothing can or ever did make me advise you to take a step unworthy of yourself. But surely you have higher and more sacred duties than the government of a mole-hill!

1845. TO THE EARL OF HARCOURT.?

MY DEAR LORD:

Friday night. You have used me so much to your goodness, that I catch cold when I am long without feeling it. I have not had the honour of seeing you this age, and cannot yet go to see anything. My gout, I own, lasts long enough to wear out anybody's patience, and has reduced me to solitude; nor dare I complain, but to the very Good, for who else would mind me? But pray do not think that is my only reason for petitioning your Lordship:

Blest be the gout, for those it took away,

And those it left me 3-if you are one of them!

However, do not be frightened; I trust that next week I shall be able to crawl about again; and then you will have as much reason to be alarmed with my gratitude; for I have already received obligations-ay! and presents enough, to be always

Your Lordship's

Most bounden servant,

HOR. WALPOLE.

On the 10th of August; when the eruption was so great, that several villages were destroyed a hunting seat belonging to the King of Naples, called Caccia Bella, shared the like fate.-WRIGHT.

Now first published.-CUNNINGHAM.

3 Parody on Pope's lines about Gay.-CUNNINGHAM.

1846. TO THE EARL OF HARCOURT.'

EXCUSE me, my dear Lord, from not writing with my own hand; but I am just got into bed with a little return of pain.

I hate to avoid any opportunity of being good-natured, but when your Lordship puts the question to me, I must speak truth. I do know Mr. Hammond, for I was at school with him. I know that he is a gentleman and has children, and that he had a very good estate at Teddington, which his extravagance obliged him to sell above twenty years ago. He has existed since by genteel begging of all his contemporaries and schoolfellows, whom he wore out, and he is now, I suppose, taking a new lease of the generosity of their grandchildren. In short, my dear Lord, I can say no good of him; and if your Lordship will be so noble as to send him a guinea or two, and tell him it is upon condition that he never troubles you any more, it will be beyond what he has any reason to expect.

I am grieved to hear your Lordship is out of order, and do hope you will not stir out till you are quite recovered. You will do more service to any part of your country that deserves it by taking care of yourself, than you could do even if you were a member of the Convocation, by sitting amongst them.

Your Lordship's

Most faithful humble servant,

H. W.

1847. TO THE REV. WILLIAM MASON.

Strawberry Hill, Sept. 14, 1779.

I RECEIVED the print of Sir Nicholas [Carew] last night by the coach, and thank you kindly.

I have not written very lately for two reasons. When disgrace arrives from every quarter, from east, west, south, what is to be said? secondly, I have been very ill, and have now only the use of one hand. First I had a disorder in my bowels, then an inflammation on my hip which ended in the gout in my elbow, knee, and left hand. The two first went off so very quick, that I flattered myself the whole would; now I am hoping I shall be quit for one

1 Now first published.-CUNNINGHAM.

hand which is tolerably bad indeed. In one word and without deluding myself, but for the moment, it is evident that my constitution is extremely impaired, and presents but a melancholy prospect for the rest of my life, which my increasing weakness will not probably allow to be long. Life, which I liked as well as most men, was indeed never less amiable. To linger on in illness were a pitiful wish to form, and to outlive the prosperity and glory of one's country were meaner still to wish. Wishing in fact decides nothing, and it is silly to say any thing about it; but when the cast of one's mind. is forced on those reflections, one is a very disagreeable correspondent.

That ignis fatuus of a brighter period, Lord Temple, is dead. He was thrown out of a chaise on a heap of bricks, fractured his skull, was trepanned, and died.

My indisposition will prevent my visit to Nuneham this month, which I had promised. I shall take care how I promise, unless what I should not be sorry to be hindered from executing.

It is ridiculous in gouty sixty-two to make engagements, or undertake a journey, when at least one ought to put into one's chaise a crutch, an hour-glass, and a death's head. My heart to the last will hover about Nuneham, as one of the few spots it still dearly loves, for its own beauties and its excellent possessors. I can frame visions of how happy, how delighted I should have been, had they enjoyed it some years ago, when you, more Orpheus than Orpheus himself, would have made the groves dance after your lyre and pencil, and rendered it what we fancy Penshurst was, but was not, and would have found a Sacharissa congenial to her Waller. I should have been proud to have been Pursuivant to the house of Harcourt, and-but adieu visions! I must form no more, and what is the theatre on which any man could form them now! Oh, what a weight of lead is the ruin of one's country.'

DEAR SIR,

1 TO THE HON, HORACE WALPOLE.

York, September 18, 1779.

I AM very sorry to find that your old enemy the gout has attacked you so early in the year the winter was usually the time for his campaigns. I wish he may behave like the French, and run away from you after he has just threatened what he is able to do with you. Am not I a true prophet with respect to these said French? did not I say they would prove our superiors in folly, and have they not done so? but they have disgraced us, and robbed us of our naval honour; that is a matter we are too wise to regard.

As to myself, though tolerably well in health, I have not spirits enough in this dull place to do anything to the various unfinished things which I ought to finish, and