I just write you a line, dear Sir, to acknowledge the receipt of the box of papers, which is come very safe, and to give you a thousand thanks for the trouble you have taken. As you promise me another letter I will wait to answer it.

At present I will only beg another favour, and with less shame, as it is of a kind you will like to grant. I have lately been at Lord Ossory's at Ampthill. You know Catherine of Arragon lived some time there.(39) Nothing remains of the castle, nor any marks of residence, but a very small bit of her garden. I proposed to Lord Ossory to erect a cross to her memory on the spot, and he will. I wish, therefore, you could, from your collections of books, or memory, pick out an authentic form of a cross, of a better appearance than the common run. It must be raised on two or three steps; and if they were octagon, would it not be handsomer? Her arms must be hung like an order upon it. Here is something of my idea.(40) The shield appendant to a collar. We will have some inscriptions to mark the cause of erection. Adieu! Your most obliged.

(39) After her divorce from Henry the Eighth.

(40) A rough sketch in the margin of the letter.

Letter 28 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.

Strawberry Hill, June 24, 1771. (page 51)

Dear Sir, when I wrote to you t'other day, I had not opened the box of letters, and consequently had not found yours, for which, and the prints, I give you a thousand thanks; though Count Bryan I have, and will return to you. Old Walker(41) is very like, and is valuable for being mentioned in the Dunciad, and a curiosity, from being mentioned there without abuse.

Your notes are very judicious,(42) and your information most useful to me in drawing up some little preface to the Letters; which, however, I shall not have time now to do before my journey, as I shall set out on Sunday se'nnight. I like your motto much. The Lady Cecilia's Letters are, as you say, more curious for the writer than the matter. We know very little of those daughters of Edward IV. Yet she and her sister Devonshire lived to be old; especially Cecily, who was married to Lord Wells; and I have found why: he was first cousin to Henry VII., who, I suppose, thought it the safest match for her. I wish I knew all she and her sisters knew of her brothers, and their uncle Richard III. Much good may it do my Lord of Canterbury with his parboiled stag! Sure there must be more curiosities in Bennet Library!

Though your letter is so entertaining and useful to me, the pa.s.sage I like best is a promise you make me of a visit in the autumn with Mr. Ess.e.x. Pray put him in mind of it, as I shall you. It would add much to the obligation if you would bring two or three of your MS. volumes of collections with you.

Yours ever.

(41) Dr. Richard Walker, vice-master of Trinity College, by Lambourne.

(42) From King Edward's Journal relating to Mr. Fitzpatrick.

Letter 29 To John Chute, Esq.

Amiens, Tuesday evening, July 9, 1771. (page 51)

I am got no farther yet, as I travel leisurely, and do not venture to fatigue myself. My voyage was but of four hours. I was sick only by choice and precaution, and find myself in perfect health. The enemy, I hope, has not returned to pinch you again, and that you defy the foul fiend. The weather is but lukewarm, and I should choose to have all the windows shut, if my smelling was not much more summerly than my feeling; but the frowsiness of obsolete tapestry and needlework is insupportable. Here are old fleas and bugs talking of Louis Quatorze like tattered refugees in the park, and they make poor Rosette attend them, whether she will or not. This is a woful account of an evening in July, and which Monsieur de St.

Lambert has omitted in his Seasons, though more natural than any thing he has placed there. I f the Grecian religion had gone into the folly of self-mortification, I suppose the devotees of Flora would have shut themselves up in a nasty inn, and have punished their noses for the sensuality of having smelt to a rose or a honeysuckle.

This is all I have yet to say; for I have had no adventure, no accident, nor seen a soul but my cousin Richard Walpole, whom I met on the road and spoke to in his chaise. To-morrow I shall lie at Chantilly, and be at Paris early on Thursday. The Churchills are there already. Good night-- and a sweet one to you!

Paris, Wednesday night, July 10.

I was so suffocated with my inn last night, that I mustered all my resolution, rose with the alouette this morning, and was in my chaise by five o'clock I got hither by eight this evening, tired, but rejoiced; I have had a comfortable dish of tea, and am going to bed in clean sheets. I sink myself even to my dear old woman(43) and my sister; for it is impossible to sit down and be made charming At this time of night after fifteen posts, and after having been here twenty times before.

At Chantilly I crossed the Countess of Walpole, who lies there to-night on her way to England. But I concluded she had no curiosity about me-and I could not brag of more about her-and so we had no intercourse. I am wobegone to find my Lord F -* *

* in the same hotel. He is as starched as an old-fashioned plaited neckcloth, and come to suck wisdom from this curious school of philosophy. He reveres me because I was acquainted with his father; and that does not at all increase my partiality to the son.

Luckily, the post departs early to-morrow morning I thought you would like to hear I was arrived -well. I should be happy to hear you are so; but do not torment yourself too soon, nor will I torment you. I have fixed the 26th of August for setting out on my return. These jaunts are too juvenile. I am ashamed to look back and remember in what year of Methuselah I was here first. Rosette Sends her blessing to her daughter. Adieu!

Yours ever.

(43) Madame du Deffand; who, in her letter to Walpole of the 12th of June, had said, "Je sens l'exc'es de votre complaisance; j'ai tant de joie de l'esp'erance de vous revoir qu'il me semble que rien ne peut plus m'affliger ni m'attrister."--E.

Letter 30 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.

Paris, July 30, 1771. (page 52)

I do not know where you are, nor where this will find you, nor when it will set out to seek you, as I am not certain by whom I shall send it. It is of little consequence, as I have nothing material to tell you, but what you probably may have heard.

The distress here is incredible, especially at court. The King's tradesmen are ruined, his servants starving, and even angels and archangels cannot get their pensions and salaries, but sing, "Woe! woe! woe!" instead of Hosannahs. Compi'egne is abandoned; Villiers-coterets and Chantilly(44) crowded, and Chanteloup(45) still more in fashion, whither every body goes that pleases; though, when they ask leave, the answer is, "Je ne le defends ni le permets." This is the first time that ever the will of a King of France was interpreted against his inclination. Yet, after annihilating his Parliament, and ruining public credit, he tamely submits to be affronted by his own servants. Madame de Beauveau, and two or three high-spirited dames, defy this Czar of Gaul- Yet they and their cabal are as inconsistent on the other hand. They make epigrams, sing vaudevilles(46) against the mistress, hand about libels against the Chancellor, and have no more effect than a sky-rocket; but in three months will die to go to court, and to be invited to sup with Madame du Barry. The only real struggle is between the Chancellor(47) and the Duc d'Aiguillon. The first is false, bold, determined, and not subject to little qualms. The other is less known, communicates himself to n.o.body, is suspected of deep policy and deep designs, but seems to intend to set out under a mask of very smooth varnish; for he has just obtained the payment of all his bitter enemy La Chalotais' pensions and arrears. He has the advantage, too, of being but moderately detested in comparison of his rival, and, what he values more, the interest of the mistress.(48) The Comptroller-general serves both, by acting mischief more sensibly felt; for he ruins every body but those who purchase a respite from his mistress.(49) He dispenses bankruptcy by retail, and will fall, because he cannot even by these means be useful enough. They are striking off nine millions la caisse militaire, five from the marine, and one from the afaires 'etrang'eres: yet all this will not extricate them. You never saw a great nation in so disgraceful a position. Their next prospect is not better: it rests on an imbecile, both in mind and body.

July 31.

Mr. Churchill and my sister set out to-night after supper, and I shall send this letter by them. There are no new books, no new Plays, no new novels; nay, no new fashions. They have dragged old Mademoiselle Le Maure out of a retreat of thirty years, to sing at the Colis'ee, which is a most gaudy Ranelagh, gilt, painted, and becupided like an Opera, but not calculated to last as long as Mother Coliseum, being composed of chalk and pasteboard. Round it are courts of treillage, that serve for nothing, and behind it a ca.n.a.l, very like a horsepond, on which there are fireworks and justs. Altogether it is very pretty; but as there are few nabobs and nabobesses in this country, and as the middling and common people are not much richer than Job when he had lost every thing but his patience, the proprietors are on the point of being ruined, unless the project takes place that is talked of. It is, to oblige Corneille, Racine, and Moli'ere to hold their tongues twice a-week, that their audiences may go to the Colis'ee. This is like our Parliament's adjourning when senators want to go to Newmarket.

There is a Monsieur Gaillard writing a "History of the Rivalit'e de la France et de l'Angleterre."(50) I hope he will not omit this parallel.

The instance of their poverty that strikes me most, who make political observations by the thermometer of baubles, is, that there is nothing new in their shops. I know the faces of every snuff-box and every tea-cup as well as those of Madame du Lac and Monsieur Poirier. I have chosen some cups and saucers for my Lady Ailesbury, as she ordered me; but I cannot say they are at all extraordinary. I have bespoken two cabriolets for her, instead of six, because I think them very dear, and that she may have four more if she likes them. I shall bring, too, a sample of a baguette that suits them. For myself, between economy and the want of novelty, I have not laid out five guineas--a very memorable anecdote in the history of my life.

Indeed, the Czarina and I have a little dispute; she has offered to purchase the whole Crozat collection of pictures, at which I had intended to ruin myself. The Turks thank her for it! Apropos, they are sending from hence fourscore officers to Poland, each of whom I suppose, like Almanzor, can stamp with his foot and raise an army.

As my sister travels like a Tartar princess with her whole horde, she will arrive too late almost for me to hear from you in return to this letter, which in truth requires no answer, v'u que I shall set out myself on the 26th of August. You will not imagine that I am glad to save myself the pleasure of hearing from you; but I would not give you the trouble of writing unnecessarily. If you are at home, and not in Scotland, you will judge by these dates where to find me.

Adieu!

P. S. Instead of restoring the Jesuits, they are proceeding to annihilate the Celestines, Augustines, and some other orders.

(44) The country palaces of the Duke of Orleans and the Prince of Cond'e; who were in disgrace at court for having espoused the cause of the Parliament of Paris, banished by the Chancellor Maupeou.

(45) The country seat of the Duc de Choiseul, to which, on his ceasing to be first minister, he was banished by the King.

(46) The following 'echantillon of these vaudevilles was given by Madame du Deffand to Walpole:--

"L'avez-vous vue, ma Du Barry, Elle a ravi mon 'ame; Pour elle j'ai perdu l'esprit, Des Fran'cais j'ai le bl'ame: Charmants enfans de la Gourdon, Est-elle chez vous maintenant?

Rendez-la-moi, Je suis le Roi, Soulagez mon martyre; Rendez-la-moi, Elle est 'a moi, Je suis son pauvre Sire.

Llavez-vous vue, etc.

"Je sais qu'autrefois les laquais Ont f'et'e ses jeunes attraits; Que les cochers, Les peruquiers, L'aimaient, l'aimaient d'amour ex'eme, Mais pas autant que je l'aime.

L'avez-vous vue," etc,-E.

(47) Maupeou.

(48) Madame du Barry.'''

(49) The Abb'e Terrai was comptroller-general of the finances.

His mistress, known in the fashionable circles of Paris by the name of La Sultane, received money, as it was supposed, in concert with the Abb'e himself, for every act of favour or justice solicited from the department over which he presided.-E.

(50) In a letter to Walpole, Madame du Deffand thus speaks of this work:--"Il m'arrive une bonne fortune apr'es laquelle je soupirais depuis longtemps: c'est un livre qui me plait infiniment; il est de M. Gaillard; il a Pour t.i.tre 'Rivalit'e de la France et de l'Angleterre;' il est par chapitres, et chaque chapitre est les 'ev'enemens du r'egne d'un Roi de France et d'un Roi d'Angleterre contemporains. Il est bien loin d''etre fini; il n'en est qu'a Philippe de Valois et Edouard Trois. Il n'y a que trois volumes; il y en aura peut-'etre douze ou quinze." The work, which was not completed till the year 1774, extended to eleven Volumes.-E.

Letter 31 To John Chute, Esq.

Paris, August 5, 1771. ((page 55)

It is a great satisfaction to Me to find by your letter of the 30th, that you have had no return of your gout. I have been a.s.sured here, that the best remedy is to cut one's nails in hot water. It is, I fear, as certain as any other remedy! It would at least be so here, if their bodies were of a piece with their understandings; or if both were as curable as they are the contrary. Your prophecy, I doubt, is not better founded than the prescription. I may be lame; but I shall never be a duck, nor deal in the garbage of the Alley. I envy your Strawberry tide, and need not say how much I wish I was there to receive you. Methinks, I should be as glad of a little gra.s.s, as a seaman after a long voyage. Yet English gardening gains ground here prodigiously-not much at a time, indeed--I have literally seen one, that is exactly like a tailor's paper of patterns. There is a Monsieur Boutin, who has tacked a piece of what he calls an English garden to a set of stone terraces, with steps of turf. There are three or four very high hills, almost as high as, and exactly in the shape of, a tansy pudding. You squeeze between these and a river, that is conducted at obtuse angles in a stone channel, and supplied by a pump, and when walnuts Come in I suppose it will be navigable. In a corner enclosed by a chalk wall are the samples I mentioned: there is a stripe of gra.s.s, another of corn, and a third en friche, exactly in the order of beds in a nursery. They have translated Mr. Whately's book,(51) and the Lord knows what barbarism is going to be laid at our door.

This new anglomanie will literally be mad English.

New arr'ets, new retrenchments, new misery, stalk forth every day. The Parliament of Besan'con is dissolved; so are the grenadiers de France. The King's tradesmen are all bankrupt; no pensions are paid, and every body is reforming their suppers and equipages. Despotism makes converts faster than ever Christianity did. Louis Quinze is the true rex Ckristianissimus, and has ten times more success than his dragooning great-grandfather. Adieu, my dear Sir! Yours most faithfully.