I am impatient to learn that she is in a covered waggon on the road to Siberia. I condole with you for the misfortune of the Gallery, and the loss of the Laocoon; yet, if a fine statue was to be demolished, it was one that could most easily be spared, as there is a duplicate at Rome, and, as I remember, not only a finer, but a more authentic. But how came the Florentines to see their gallery burn with so much indifference? It was collected by the Medici. If formed by the Lorrainers I should not wonder. Lady Mary Wortley is dead, as I prepared you to expect. Except some trifling legacies, she has given everything to Lady Bute, so we shall never know the sum-perhaps that was intended. It is given out for inconsiderable, besides some rich baubles. Another of our old acquaintance at Florence is greatly advanced; Lady Charlotte Finch' is made governess to the Prince; a choice so universally approved that I do not think she will be abused even in the North Briton.' 2 Mrs. Foote's friend, Lord Westmoreland, is just dead, from a stroke of the palsy. His countess is gone to your sister at Linton. His Chancellorship of Oxford will be an object of contention. Lord Litchfield will have the interest of the Court, which now has some influence there; yet, perhaps, those who would have voted for him formerly, may not now be his heartiest friends. 3 Oh, when I was talking of the royal child, I should have told you of a delightful card which was sent by Mrs. Salvador and Mrs. Mendez, two rich Jewesses, to know how the Queen did. Lady Northumberland, who was in waiting, told the servant that that was not the manner that they should have come in person to inquire. "That's good," replied the fellow; "why, my mistress lies in herself if she had not, I suppose she would have expected the Queen to send to her." I will make your compliments to Palazzo Pitti [Mr. Thomas Pitt], when I see it; but he has scarce been here; he is not well, and drinking waters at Sunning-Hill. Thank you for Cocchi's 'Spectator,' I like it better than you shall own to him. With his father's freedom of thinking, he has a 1 See vol. i. p. 52.-CUNNINGHAM. 2 Mary, sister of Sir Horace Mann.-WALPOLE. 3 The Jacobites.-WALPOLE. 4 Son of Dr. Cocchi, a Florentine physician and author; the son wrote some Spectators on the model of Addison's.- WALPOLE. great deal of humour; but don't let him pursue it. Wit will be but slender comfort in the prisons of the Inquisition, or in a fortress; more uncomfortable, if his opening the eyes of others leads them into the same situation. If curing old errors would prevent the world from falling into new ones, à la bonne heure; but one nonsense is as good as another; better; if the change is to be made by blood. A Gustavus Vasa may strike a stroke for liberty, but few men are born to overturn a tyranny with their pen. When established liberty is in danger, then write for it; one may prevent people perhaps from shutting their eyes; 'tis more difficult to unclose them if shut. Nor can it be done when the world is in cold blood; you may snatch a fortunate fermenting minute, but you cannot prepare it. If Cocchi must write, let him come hither; here he may make reeds, say what he will;' but let his own barber remind him that in some countries it is not safe even to trust reeds with one's thoughts. Adieu! 2 P.S. When I was mentioning acquaintance you have lost, I forgot to name Lady Fane; you see nervous disorders are not very mortal; I think she must have been above seventy. 808. TO THE HON. H. S. CONWAY. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 9, 1762. Nondum laurus erat, longoque decentia crine THIS is a hint to you, that as Phoebus, who was certainly your superior, could take up with a chesnut garland, or any crown he found, you must have the humility to be content without laurels, when none are to be had: you have hunted far and near for them, and taken true pains to the last in that old nursery-garden Germany, and by the way have made me shudder with your last journal: but you must be easy with qualibet other arbore; you must come home to your own plantations. The Duke of Bedford is gone in a fury to make peace, for he cannot be even pacific with temper; and by this time I suppose the Duke de Nivernois is unpacking his portion of olive dans la rue de Suffolk-street. I say, I suppose for I do not, like my friends at Arthur's, whip into my post-chaise to see every 1 Alluding to Midas's barber.-WALPOLE. 2 Charlotte, sister of James first Earl of Stanhope, and mother of Charles, the last Viscount Fane, friend of Sir Horace Mann, and his predecessor at Florence.WALPOLE. novelty. My two sovereigns, the Duchess of Grafton and Lady Mary Coke, are arrived, and yet I have seen neither Polly nor Lucy. The former, I hear, is entirely French; the latter as absolutely English. Well! but if you insist on not doffing your cuirass, you may find an opportunity of wearing it. The storm thickens. The City of London are ready to hoist their standard; treason is the bon-ton at that end of the town; seditious papers pasted up at every corner: nay, my neighbourhood is not unfashionable; we have had them at Brentford and Kingston. The Peace is the cry; but to make weight, they throw in all the abusive ingredients they can collect. They talk of your friend the Duke of Devonshire's resigning; and, for the Duke of Newcastle, it puts him so much in mind of the end of Queen Anne's time, that I believe he hopes to be Minister again for another forty years. In the mean time, there are but dark news from the Havannah; the Gazette, who would not fib for the world, says, we have lost but four officers; the World, who is not quite so scrupulous, says, our loss is heavy.-But what shocking notice to those who have Harry Conways there! The Gazette breaks off with saying, that they were to storm the next day! Upon the whole, it is regarded as a preparative to worse news. Our next monarch [George IV.] was christened last night, George Augustus Frederick; the Princess, the Duke of Cumberland, and Duke of Mecklenburgh, sponsors; the ceremony performed by the Bishop of London.' The Queen's bed, magnificent, and they say in taste, was placed in the great drawing-room: though she is not to see company in form, yet it looks as if they had intended people should have been there, as all who presented themselves were admitted, which were very few, for it had not been notified; I suppose to prevent too great a crowd: all I have heard named, besides those in waiting, were the Duchess of Queensbury, Lady Dalkeith, Mrs. Grenville, and about four more ladies. My Lady Ailesbury is abominable: she settled a party to come hither, and put it off a month; and now she has been here and seen my Cabinet, she ought to tell you what good reason I had not to stir. If she has not told you that it is the finest, the prettiest, the newest and the oldest thing in the world, I will not go to Park-place on the 20th, as I have promised. Oh! but tremble you may for 1 No: by the Archbishop of Canterbury.—CUNNINGHAM. me, though you will not for yourself-all my glories were on the point of vanishing last night in a flame! The chimney of the new Gallery, which chimney is full of deal-boards, and which Gallery is full of shavings, was on fire at eight o'clock. Harry' had quarrelled with the other servants, and would not sit in the kitchen; and to keep up his anger, had lighted a vast fire in the servants' hall, which is under the Gallery. The chimney took fire; and if Margaret had not smelt it with the first nose that ever a servant had, a quarter of an hour had set us in a blaze. I hope you are frightened out of your senses for me: if you are not, I will never live in a panic for three or four years for you again. I have had Lord March and the Rena' here for one night, which does not raise my reputation in the neighbourhood, and may usher me again for a Scotchman into the North Briton.' I have had too a letter from a German that I never saw, who tells me, that, hearing by chance how well I am with my Lord Bute, he desires me to get him a place. The North Briton first recommended me for an employment, and has now given me interest at the backstairs. It is a notion, that whatever is said of one, has generally some kind of foundation: surely I am a contradiction to this maxim yet, was I of consequence, enough to be remembered, perhaps posterity would believe that I was a flatterer! Good night! Yours ever. DEAR SIR: 809. TO GROSVENOR BEDFORD, ESQ. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 9, 1762. I MUST trouble you in an affair in which it is not easy, I fear, to assist me. My servant, Henry Jones, is grown old and wants to retire. If you could find a very good servant for me, it would be of great use. I will tell you exactly what sort of man I want. He is to be steward and butler, not my gentleman, nor have any thing to do with dressing me, or with my clothes, but is to wait at table and at tea. His chief business will be to look after my family, in which 1 His servant, Henry Jones; see next letter (of this day's date) to Grosvenor Bedford-CUNNINGHAM. 2 A fashionable courtezan.-WALPOLE. 3 The favourable opinion given by Mr. Walpole of the abilities of the Scotch in the Royal and Noble Authors, first drew upon him the notice of the North Briton.WALPOLE. 4 Now first published.-CUNNINGHAM. he must be strict; and he must understand buying and selling, for what I shall chiefly expect, will be, that he shall bring me every Saturday night the house-bills for the week, and every month those of the other tradesmen and servants. For these reasons which I cannot dispense with, I chuse to have a grave servant of forty, or near it, with a very good character, and I should wish, not married. When you inquire, be so good as not to let it be known that it is for me; as I do not like to have servants present themselves, whom I should probably not care to take. The wages I shall make little difficulty about, if it is one that I can depend upon for being careful in my family, and letting there be no waste. I shall be in town on Monday night, and if you will call on me on Tuesday or Wednesday mornings, I will talk to you farther, for though I should be glad to have this servant soon, I am in no particular haste. Adieu, dear Sir! Yours ever, H. W. P.S. One material condition will be, that he is not to have friends coming to my house after him. DEAR SIR: 810. TO GROSVENOR BEDFORD, ESQ.1 Strawberry Hill, Sept. 24, 1762. I WOULD not trouble you with the enclosed commissions, but as I think you pass by both doors almost every day. Be so good as to inquire if the persons mentioned in these advertisements are really objects of charity, and if they are, I will beg you to leave a guinea for each, and put it to my account. Yours ever, DEAR SIR: 811. TO GROSVENOR BEDFORD, ESQ. H. W. I WISH you would be so good as to give five guineas for me (but without my name) to the subscription for the French prisoners, which I see by the enclosed advertisement has taken place; and put it into the next account. It is at Mr. Biddulph's, banker, at Charing-cross. Yours ever, H. W. 1 Now first published. This is one of many letters addressed by Walpole to his Deputy. Walpole's was not a callous heart. The letters that follow on the same subject (without date) will come in appropriately here.-CUNNINGHAM. |