I was directing the east window at Ely, I recollected the lines of

Prior :

"How unlucky were nature and art to poor Nell!

She was painting her cheeks at the time her nose fell.”

Adorning cathedrals when the religion itself totters, is very like poor Nell's mishap.2

I will trouble you with no more at present, but to get from Mr. Lort the name of the Norfolk mouster, and to give it to Jackson. Don't forget the list of English heads in Dr. Ewin's book for Mr. Granger; particularly the duchess of Chenreux. I will now release you, only adding my compliments to Dr. Ewin, Mr. Tyson, Mr. Lort, Mr. Essex, and once more to the Benthams.

Adieu, dear sir!

Yours ever.

Remember to ask me for acacias, and any thing else with which I can pay some of my debts to you.

TO THE REV. MR. COLE.

Strawberry-hill, Aug. 12, 1769.

DEAR SIR,

I was in town yesterday, and found the parcel arrived very safe. I give you a thousand thanks, dear sir, for all the contents; but, when I sent you the list of heads I wanted, it was for Mr. Jackson, not at all meaning to rob you; but your generosity much outruns my prudence, and I must be upon my guard with you. The Catherine Bolen was particularly welcome; I had never seen it—it is a treasure, though I am persuaded not genuine, but taken from a French print of the queen of Scots, which I have. I wish you could tell me from whence it was taken ; I mean from what book: I imagine the same in which

2 Here follow some minute directions for building the gateway, unintelligible without the sketch that accompanied the letter, and uninteresting with it, and a list of prints that Mr. Walpole was anxious to procure. [Or.]

are two prints, which Mr. Granger mentions, and has himself (with Italian inscriptions, too), of a duke of Northumberland and an earl of Arundel. Mr. Bernardiston I never saw beforeI do not know in what reign he lived-I suppose lately: nor do I know the era of the master of Benet. When I come back, I must beg you to satisfy these questions. The countess of Kent is very curious, too; I have lately got a very dirty one, so that I shall return yours again. Mrs. Wooley I could not get high nor low. But there is no end of thanking you-and yet I must for Sir J. Finett, though Mr. Hawkins gave me a copy a fortnight ago. I must delay sending them till I come back. Be so good as to thank Mr. Tyson for his prints and notes; the latter I have not had time to look over, I am so hurried with my journey; but I am sure they will be very useful to me. I hope he will not forget me in October. It will be a good opportunity of sending you some young acacias, or any thing you want from hence. I am sure you ought to ask me for any thing in my power, so much I am in your debt: I must beg to be a little more, by entreating you to pay Mr. Essex whatever he asks for his drawing, which is just what I wished. The iron gates I have.

With regard to a history of Gothic architecture, in which he desires my advice, the plan, I think, should lie in a very simple compass. Was I to execute it, it should be thus:-I would give a series of plates, even from the conclusion of Saxon architecture, beginning with the round Roman arch, and going on to show how they plaistered and zig-zagged it, and then how better ornaments crept in, till the beautiful Gothic arrived at its perfection: then how it deceased in Henry the eighth's reign!— Abp. Wareham's tomb at Canterbury, being, I believe, the last example of unbastardized Gothic. A very few plates more would demonstrate its change: though Holbein embroidered it with some morsels of true architecture. In queen Elizabeth's reign there was scarce any architecture at all: I mean no pillars, or seldom, buildings then becoming quite plain. Under James a barbarous composition succeeded. A single plate of something of Inigo Jones, in his heaviest and worst style, should terminate the work; for he soon stepped into the true and perfect Grecian.

The next part, Mr. Essex can do better than any body, and is, perhaps, the only person that can do it. This should consist of observations on the art, proportions, and method of building,

and the reasons observed by the Gothic architects for what they did. This would show what great men they were, and how they raised such aerial and stupendous masses, though unassisted by half the lights now enjoyed by their successors. The prices and the wages of workmen, and the comparative value of money and provisions at the several periods, should be stated, as far as it is possible to get materials.

The last part (I don't know whether it should not be the first part) nobody can do so well as yourself. This must be to ascertain the chronologic period of each building. And not only of each building, but of each tomb, that shall be exhibited; for you know the great delicacy and richness of Gothic ornaments were exhausted on small chapels, oratories, and tombs. For my own part, I should wish to have added detached samples of the various patterns of ornaments, which would not be a great many; as, excepting pinnacles, there is scarce one which does not branch from the trefoil; quatrefoils, cinquefoils, &c. being but various modifications of it. I believe almost all the ramifications of windows are so, and of them there should be samples, too.

This work you see could not be executed by one hand: Mr. Tyson could give great assistance. I wish the plan was drawn out, and better digested. This is a very rude sketch, and first thought. I should be very glad to contribute what little I know, and to the expense too, which would be considerable; but I am sure we could get assistance—and it had better not be undertaken than executed superficially. Mr. Tyson's History of Fashions and Dresses would make a valuable part of the work; as, in elder times especially, much must be depended on tombs for dresses. I have a notion the king might be inclined to encourage such a work; and, if a proper plan was drawn out, for which I have not time now, I would endeavour to get it laid before him, and his patronage solicited. Pray talk this over with Mr. Tyson and Mr. Essex. It is an idea worth pursuing.

You was very kind to take me out of the scrape about the organ; and yet if my insignificant name could carry it to one side, I would not scruple to lend it.' Thank you, too, for St.

1 There was a dispute among the chapter at Ely respecting the situation of the organ. [Or.]

Alban and Noailles. The very picture the latter describes was my father's collection, and is now at Worksop. I have scarce room to crowd in my compliments to the good house of Bentham,

in

and to say

Yours ever.

To GEORGE MONTAGU, Esq.

August 18, 1769.

As I have heard nothing of you since the Assyrian calends, which is much longer ago than the Greek, you may perhaps have died in Media, at Ecbatana, or in Chaldæa, and then to be sure I have no reason to take it ill, that you have forgotten me. There is no post between Europe and the Elysian fields, where I hope in the lord Pluto you are; and for the letters that are sent by Orpheus, Æneas, sir George Villiers, and such accidental passengers, to be sure one cannot wonder if they miscarry. You might indeed have sent one a scrawl by Fanny, as Cock-lane is not very distant from Arlington-street; but, when I asked her, she scratched the ghost of a no, that made one's ears tingle again. If, contrary to all probability, you should still be above ground, and if, which is still more improbable, you should repent of your sins while you are yet in good health, and should go strangely further, and endeavour to make atonement by writing to me again, I think it conscientiously right to inform you, that I am not in Arlington-street, nor at Strawberry-hill, even in Middlesex; nay, not in England, I am—I am-guess where not in Corsica, nor at Spa-stay, I am not at Paris yet, but I hope to be there in two days. In short, I am at Calais, having landed about two hours ago, after a tedious passage of nine hours. Having no soul with me but Rosette, I have been amusing myself with the arrival of a French officer and his wife in a berlin, which carried their ancestors to one of Molière's plays: as madame has no maid with her, she and monsieur very prudently untied the trunks, and disburthened the venerable machine of all its luggage themselves; and then with a proper resumption of their quality, monsieur gave his hand to madame, and conducted her in much ceremony through the yard to their apart

nor

ment. Here ends the beginning of my letter; when I have nothing else to do, perhaps, I may continue it. You cannot have the confidence to complain, if I give you no more than my momems perdus ; have you deserved any better of me?

Saturday morning.

HAVING just recollected that the whole merit of this letter will consist in the surprise, I hurry to finish it, and send it away by the captain of the packet, who is returning. You may repay me this surprise by answering my letter, and by directing yours to Arlington-street, from whence Mary will forward it to me. You will not have much time to consider, for I shall set out on my return from Paris the first of October, according to my solemn promise to Strawberry; and you must know, I keep my promises to Strawberry much better than you do. Adieu! Boulogne hoy.

To JOHN CHUTE, Esq.

Paris, August 30, 1769.

I HAVE been so hurried with paying and receiving visits, that I have not had a moment's worth of time to write. My passage was very tedious, and lasted near nine hours for want of wind -But I need not talk of my journey; for Mr. Maurice, whom I met on the road, will have told you that I was safe on terra firma.

Judge of my surprise at hearing four days ago that my lord Dacre 1 and my lady were arrived here. They are lodged within a few doors of me. He is come to consult a doctor Pomme, who has prescribed wine, and lord Dacre already complains of the violence of his appetite. If you and I had pommed him to eternity, he would not have believed us. A man across the sea

1 Thomas Barret Lennard, seventeenth baron Dacre. His lordship married Ann Maria, daughter of sir John Pratt, lord chief justice of the court of King's Bench. [Ed.]

2 At that time the fashionable physician of Paris. He was originally from Arles, and attained his celebrity by curing the ladies of fashion, in the French metropolis, of the vapours. [Ed.]