To which he answer'd "Ay, Bob." He sternly answer'd, "Nay, Bob." I am told this is at least three years old, no matter; good ink like wine is not the worse for age. I wish you had told me, if you did not find Nuneham in more beauty than ever. I do not know the Paradise on earth I prefer to it, with its Adam and Eve; who may comfort themselves with having no children, when they recollect that the first-born committed murder with the jaw-bone of an Ass, a deadly weapon I am sure! Quaker or not I do object to my valuable researches: I never searched anywhere but in foolish books, and for no end but to divert myself. It is such folk as Dr. Milles that research; and when they have tumbled out of their depth, call their fall-elucidations. I never pretended to any thing; I never did any thing that signified, and I will not subscribe to compliments, which would look as if I liked them. Yet I do not pretend to be humble, nor to dislike flattery; but then I choose to flatter myself-for that is the only flattery that is ever severe. I do not ask when you will come to town, for then perhaps you will tell me. With duty to Miss Fauquier. How I delight to see her Throw her broad black exterminating eye, P.S. I am reading L'Abbé Richard's Voiage d'Italie,' in six volumes. He pretends to give an account of the History and Governments of the several States, and though it is heavy, it is not bad; but one passage diverted me, speaking of Piperno the Privernum of the Volsci, he mentions Camilla as a parishioner there, and says, "L'Histoire de cette belle guerriere (in Virgil) merite d'être lue." There is a research for you. In the eighteenth century we can cite Virgil for true story, as Caxton did three hundred years ago. 1973. TO SIR HORACE MANN. Berkeley Square, Nov. 2, 1780. If the word New Parliament did not impose a sort of duty on me -at least, if you would not expect it, I think I should scarce write to you yet, for I have nothing to tell you but that il ne valoit pas la peine de changer. There are several new members, but no novelty in style or totality of votes. The Court may have what number it chooses to buy. It has nominated a new Speaker, Mr. Cornwall. Sir Fletcher, who never haggles with shame, published his own disgrace, and declared he had been laid aside without notice. Courts do not always punish their own profligates so justly. There is no new public event at home or from abroad. The Spanish negotiation does not seem to advance at all. Prince Frederic, the Bishop, is going to Germany; and then the Prince of Wales is to have something of a family. The Earl some call out gentle Our old acquaintance Lord Pomfret, whose madness has lain dormant for some time, is broken out again; I mean, his madness is. He went down to Euston last week, and challenged the Duke of Grafton for an affront offered to him, he said, when the Duke was Minister-you know what an age ago that was. The Duke declared his innocence, and advised him to consider on it. He did for two days; then said he was now cool, yet insisted on satisfaction. The Duke gave both letters to a magistrate, and then swore the peace against him; the only rational thing to be done. years ago had many of these flippancies, and used to men in the playhouse, who he pretended had made faces at him. As madmen are generally cunning and malicious, it was generally such as looked unlikely to resent, whom he picked out. Once he unluckily selected General Moyston, and, drawing his curtains early in the morning, bade him rise and follow him into Hyde Park, for having laughed at him at Court. Moyston denied having even seen him there. "Oh, then, it is very well," said my Lord. "No, by God, is not it," replied the General; "you have disturbed me when I had been in bed but three hours, and now you shall give me satisfaction" but the Earl begged to be excused. There was a Mr. Palmes Robinson, who used to say publicly that he had often got Lord Pomfret as far as Hyde Park Corner, but never could get him any farther. Mr. Windham I have seen. He is wonderfully recovered, and looks robust again. He said ten thousand fine things in your praise. Oh! thought I; but said nothing. Mr. Morrice I have not yet seen: he is confined in the country by the gout, and I hear looks dreadfully. I have seen lately in the Abbé Richard's Voyage d'Italie,' written in 1762, that in the Palais Pitti were preserved two large volumes of the Travels of Cosimo III.,' with views of the houses. he had been at; and he names England amongst them, where he certainly was. Could you find out if there is such a thing, and get a sight of it? I should be very curious to know what English seats are there. Old English mansions are great objects with me— but do not give yourself much trouble about this request. 3rd. You perceive that I am not likely to have great Parliamentary news to tell you. This week they are only being sworn in. The first debate in the Commons was to be next Monday, but probably will not, for last night Lord North was very ill of a fever. They can no more go on without their Treasurer, than without their pensions. Sir Horace the second, I take for granted, will tell you of the common debates. I do not mean to relax myself, but seldom know much of their details, which I think of little consequence; and rather reserve myself for confirming or contradicting reports of considerable events. 1974. TO THE REV. WILLIAM COLE. Berkeley Square, Nov. 11, 1780. I AM afraid you are not well, my good Sir; for you are so obligingly punctual, that I think you would have acknowledged the receipt of my last volume, if you were not out of order. Lord Dacre lent me the new edition of Mr. Gough's 'Topography,' and the ancient maps and quantity of additions tempted me to buy it. I have not gone through much above half of the first volume, and find it more entertaining than the first edition. This is not partiality; for I think he seems rather disposed, though civilly, to find cavils with me. Indeed, in the passage in which I am most mentioned, he not only gives a very confused, but quite a wrong account; as in other places, he records some trifles in my possession not worth recording-but I know that we antiquaries are but too apt to think, that whatever has had the honour of entering our ears, is worthy of being laid before the eyes of everybody else. The story I mean is p. xi. of the Preface. Now the three volumes of drawings and tombs, by Mr. Lethueillier and Sir Charles Frederick, for which Mr. Gough says I refused two hundred pounds, and are now Lord Bute's, are not Lord Bute's, but mine, and for which I never was offered two hundred pounds, and for which I gave sixty pounds-full enough. The circumstances were much more entertaining than Mr. G.'s perplexed account. Bishop Lyttelton told me Sir Charles Frederick complained of Mr. L.'s not bequeathing them to him, as he had been a joint labourer with him; and that Sir Charles wished I would not bid against him for them, as they were to be sold by auction. I said this was a very reasonable request, and that I was ready to oblige Sir Charles; but as I heard others meant to bid high for the books, I should wish to know how far he would go, and that I would not oppose him; but should the books exceed the price Sir Charles was willing to give, I should like to be at liberty to bid for them against others. However, added I, as Sir Charles (who lived then in Berkeley Square, as I did then in Arlington Street) passes by my door every time he goes to the House of Commons, if he will call on me, we will make such agreement. You will scarce believe the sequel. The dignity of Sir Charles Frederick was hurt that I should propose his making me the first visit, though to serve himself-nothing could be more out of my imagination than the ceremonial of visits; though when he was so simple as to make a point of it, I could not see how in any light I was called on to make the first visit-and so the treaty ended; and so I bought the books. There was another work, I think in two volumes, which was their Diary of their Tour, with a few slight views. Bishop Lyttelton proposed them to me, and engaged to get them for me from Mr. Lethueillier's sister for ten guineas. She hesitated, the Bishop died, I thought no more of them, and they may be what Lord Bute has. There is another assertion in Mr. Gough, which I can authentically contradict. He says Sir Matthew Decker first introduced ananas, p. 134. My very curious picture of Rose, the royal gardener, presenting the first ananas to Charles II. proves the culture here earlier by several years. At page 373, he seems to doubt my assertion of Gravelot's making drawings of tombs in Gloucestershire, because he never met with any engravings from them. I took my account from Vertue, who certainly knew what he said. I bought at Vertue's own sale some of Gravelot's drawings of our regal monuments, which Vertue engraved but, which is stronger, Mr. Gough himself a few pages after, viz., in p. 387, mentions Gravelot's drawing of Tewkesbury church; which being in Gloucestershire, Mr. G. might have believed me that Gravelot did draw in that county. This is a little like Mr. Masters's being angry with me for taking liberties with bishops and chancellors, and then abusing grossly one who had been both bishop and chancellor. I forgot that in the note on Sir Charles Frederick, Mr. Gough calls Mr. Worseley, Wortley. In page 354, he says Rooker exhibited a drawing of Waltham-cross to the Royal Academy of Sciences-pray where is that Academy? I suppose he means that of Painting. I find a few omissions; one very comical; he says Penshurst was celebrated by Ben Jonson, and seems totally in the dark as to how much more fame it owes to Waller. We antiquaries are a little apt to get laughed at for knowing what everybody has forgotten, and for being ignorant of what every child knows. Do not tell him of these things, for I do not wish to vex him. I hope I was mistaken, and shall hear that you are well. Yours ever. 1975. TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY. Berkeley Square, Nov. 16, 1780. Ir 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 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 Revelations, 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 André'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 Councillor! betraying to Sir Harry Clinton, in the height of his indignation for André, the wretched poor souls cooped up in New York, who are guilty of that correspondence. When I expressed my horror at such bloody |