Penetration argues from reasonable probabilities; but chance and folly are apt to contradict calculation, and hitherto they seen) to have full scope for action. One hears of no genius on either side, nor do symptoms of any appear. There will perhaps: such times and tempests bring forth, at least bring out, great men.

I do not take the Duke of Orleans or Mirabeau to be built du bois dont on les fait; no, nor Monsieur Necker.(651) He may be a great traitor, if he made the confusion designedly: but it is a woful evasion, if the promised financier slips into a black politician! I adore liberty, but I would bestow it as honestly as I could; and a civil war, besides being a game of chance, is paying a very dear price for it.

For us, we are in most danger of a deluge; though I wonder we so frequently complain of long rains. The saying about St.

Swithin is a proof of how often they recur; for proverbial sentences are the children of experience, not of prophecy. Good night! In a few days I shall send you a beautiful little poem from the Strawberry press.

(650) For an interesting account of the storming and destruction of the Bastille, on the 14th of July, see Mr. Shobert's valuable translation of M. Thiers's "History of the French Revolution,"

vol. i. p. 59.-E.

(651) "It was in vain," says Sir Walter Scott, "that the Marquis de Bouill'e pointed out the dangers arising from the const.i.tution a.s.signed to the States General, and insisted that the minister was arming the Popular part of the nation against the two privileged orders, and that the latter would soon experience the effects of their hatred, Necker calmly replied, that there was a necessary reliance to be placed on the virtues of the human heart--the maxim of a worthy man, but not of an enlightened statesman, who has but too much reason to know how often both the virtues and the prudence of human nature are surmounted by its prejudices and Pa.s.sions." Life of Napoleon Buonaparte, vol. i, p, 107, ed. 1834.-E.

Letter 336 To Miss Hannah More.

Strawberry Hill, Monday night, July 20, 1789. (PAGE 427)

My excellent friend, I never shall be angry with your conscientiousness, though I ) do not promise never to scold it, as you know I think you sometimes carry it too far; and how pleasant to have a friend to scold on such grounds! I see all your delicacy in what you call your double treachery, and your kind desire of connecting two of your friends.(652) The seeds are sprung up already; and the Bishop has already condescended to make me the first, and indeed so unexpected a visit, that, had I in the least surmised it, I should certainly, as became me, have prevented him. One effect, however, I can tell you your pimping between us will have: his lordship has, to please your partiality, flattered me so agreeably in the letter you betrayed, that I shall never write to you again without the dread of attempting the wit he is so liberal as to bestow on me; and then either way I must be dull or affected, though I hope to have the grace to prefer the former, and then you only will be the sufferer, as we both should by the latter. But I will come to facts -. they are plain bodies, can have nothing to do with wit, and yet are not dull to those who have any thing to do with them.

According to your order, I have delivered Ghosts(653) to Mrs.

Boscawen, Mrs. Garrick, Lady Juliana Penn, Mrs. Walsingham, and Mr. Pepys. Mr. Batt, I am told, leaves London to-day; so I shall reserve his to his return. This morning I carried his thirty to the Bishop of London, who said modestly, he should not have expected above ten. I was delighted with the palace, with the Venerable chapel, and its painted episcopalities in gla.s.s, and the brave hall, etc. etc. Though it rained, I would crawl to Bonner's chair. In short, my satisfaction would have been complete, but for wanting the presence of that jesuitess, "the good old papist."

To-morrow departs for London, to be delivered to the Bristol coach at the White-horse-cellar in Piccadilly, a parcel containing sixty-four Ghosts, one of which is printed on brown for your own eating. There is but one more such, so you may preserve it like a relic. I know these two are not so good as the white: but, as rarities, a collector would give ten times more for them; and uniquity will make them valued more than the charming poetry. I believe, if there was but one ugly woman in the world, she would occasion a longer war than Helen did. You will find the Bishop's letter in the parcel. I did not breathe a hint of my having seen it, as I could not conjure up Into my pale cheeks the blush I ought to exhibit on such flattery.

I pity you most sincerely for your almost drowned guest. Fortune seems to delight in throwing poor Louisas in Your Way, that you may exercise your unbounded charity and benevolence. Adieu!

pray write. I need not write to you to pray; but I wish, when your knees have what the common people call a worky-day, you would employ your hands the whole time. Yours most cordially.

P. S. I believe I have blundered, and that your knees would call a week-day a holiday.

(652) With the view of making Bishop Porteus and Walpole better known to each other, Miss More had committed what she called a double treachery, in showing to the Bishop a letter she had received from Walpole, and to Walpole one sent her by the Bishop.-E.

(653) Though the author of this poem must have been known to so many individuals in the year 1789, the secret was so well kept, that it was actually printed in the, Gentleman's Magazine for February, 1804, as the production of Walpole.-E.

Letter 337 To Miss Berry.

Strawberry Hill, July 29, 1789. (PAGE 428)

I have received two dear letters from you of the 18th and 25th and though you do not accuse me, but say a thousand kind things to me in the most agreeable manner, I allow my ancientry, and that I am an old, jealous, and peevish husband, and quarrel with you if I do not receive a letter exactly at the moment I please to expect one. You talk of mine; but, if you knew how I like Yours, you would not wonder that I am impatient, and even unreasonable in my demands. However, though I own my faults, I do not mean to correct them. I have such pleasure in your letters (I am sorry I am here forced to speak in the singular number,'which by the way is an Irishism,) that I will be cross if you do not write to me perpetually. The quintessence of your last but one was, in telling me you are better - how fervently do I wish to receive such accounts every post. But who can mend but old I, in such detestable weather?--not one hot day; and, if a morning shines, the evening closes with a heavy shower.

Of French news I can give you no fresher or more authentic account, than you can collect in general from the newspapers; but my present visitants and every body else confirm the veracity of Paris being in that anarchy that speaks the populace domineering in the most cruel and savage manner, and which a servile mult.i.tude broken loose calls liberty; and which in all probability will end, when their Ma.s.saniello-like reign is over, in their being more abject slaves than ever, and chiefly by the crime of their 'Etats, who, had they acted with temper and prudence, might have obtained from their poor and undesigning King a good and permanent const.i.tution. Who may prove their tyrant, if reviving loyalty does not in a new frenzy force him to be so, it is impossible to foresee; but much may happen first.

The rage seems to gain the provinces, and threatens to exhibit the horrors of those times when the peasants ma.s.sacred the gentlemen. Thus you see I can only conjecture, which is not sending you news; and my intelligence reaches me by so many rebounds, that you must not depend on any thing I can tell you.

I repeat, because I hear; but draw on you for no credit. Having experienced last winter, in suporaddition to a long life of experience, that in Berkeley Square I could not trust to a single report from Kew, can I swallow implicitly at Twickenham the distorted information that comes from Paris through the medium of London?

You asked me in one of your letters who La Chalotais was. I answer, premier pr'esident or avocat-g'en'eral, I forget which, of the Parliament of Bretagne; a great, able, honest, and most virtuous man, who opposed the Jesuits and the tyranny of the Duc d'Aiguillon; but he was as indiscreet as he was good. Calonne was his friend and confident; to whom the imprudent patriot trusted, by letter, his farther plan of opposition and designs.

The wretch pretended to have business with, or to be sent for by, the Duc de la Vrilli'ere, secretary of state; a courtier-wretch, whose mistress used to sell lettres do cachet for a louis.(654) Calonne was left to wait in the antechamber; but being, as he said, suddenly called in to the minister, as he was reading (a most natural soil for such a lecture) the letter of his friend, he by a second natural inadvertence left the fatal letter on the chimney-piece. The consequence, much more natural, was, that La Chalotais was committed to the Ch'ateau du Taureau, a horrible dungeon on a rock in the sea, with his son, whose legs mortified there, and the father was doomed to the scaffold; but the Duc de Choiseul sent a counter reprieve by an express and a cross-road, and saved him.(655) At the beginning of this reign he was restored. Paris, however, was so indignant at the treachery, that this Calonne was hissed out of the theatre, when I was in that capital.(656) When I heard, some years after, that a Calonne was made controlleur-g'en'eral, I concluded that it must be a son, not conceiving that so reprobated a character could emerge to such a height; but asking my sister, 'who has been in France since I was, she a.s.sured me it was not only the identical being, but that when she was at Metz, where I think he was intendant, the officers in garrison would not dine with him. When he fled hither for an asylum, I did not talk of his story till I saw it in one of the pamphlets that were written against him in France, and that came over hither.

Friday night, 31st.

My company prevented my finishing this: part left me at noon, the residue are to come to-morrow. To-day I have dined at Fulham(657) along with Mrs. Boscawen but St. Swithin played the devil so, that we could not stir out of doors, and had fires to chase the watery Spirits. Quin, being once asked if ever he had seen so bad a winter, replied, "Yes, just such an one last summer!"--and here is its youngest brother!

Mrs. Boscawen saw a letter from Paris to Miss Sayer this morning, Which says Necker's son-in-law was arrived, and had announced his father-in- law's promise of return from Basle. I do not know whether his honour or ambition prompt this compliance; Surely not his discretion. I am much acquainted with him, and do not hold him great and profound enough to quell the present anarchy. if he attempts to moderate for the King, I Shall not be surprised if he falls another victim to tumultuary jealousy and outrage.(658) All accounts agree in the violence of the mob against the inoffensive as well as against the objects of their resentment; and in the provinces, where even women are not safe in their houses. The hotel of the Duc de Chatelet, lately built and superb, has been a.s.saulted, and the furniture sold by auction;(659) but a most shocking act of a royalist in Burgundy who is said to have blown up a committee of forty persons, will probably spread the flames of civil rage much wider. When I read the account I did not believe it; but the Bishop of London says, he hears the 'Etats have required the King to write to every foreign power not to harbour the execrable author, who is fled.(660) i fear this conflagration will not end as rapidly as that in Holland!

(654) The Duc de la Vrillibre was dismissed in 1775, and succeeded by M. de Malesherbes, Madame du Deffand's letter to Walpole of June 26, 1774, contains the following epigram on him:--

"Ministre sans talent ainsi que sans vertu, Couvert d'ignominie autant qu'on le peut 'etre, Retire-toi donc! Qu'attends-tu?

Qu'on te jette par la fen'etre?"-E.

(655) La Chalotais died in July 1785. Among other works he wrote an "Essay On National Education," which was reprinted in 1825.

His son perished by the guillotine in January 1794.-E.

(656) "An intrigue brought M. de Calonne forward, who was not in good odour with the public, because he had contributed to the persecution Of La chatolais." Thiers, vol. i. p. 5.-E.

(657) With Bishop Porteus. "I fear," writes Hannah More, on hearing of this dinner, "I shall secretly triumph in the success of my fraud, if it has contributed to bring about any intercourse between the Abbey of Fulham and the Castle of Otranto, it sounds so ancient and so feudal! But among the things which pleased you in the episcopal domain, I hope the lady of it has that good fortune; she is quite a model of a pleasant wife. Now, I am acquainted with a great many very good wives, who are so notable and so manageable, that they make a man every thing but happy; and I know a great many other;, who sing, play and paint, and cut paper, and are so accomplished, that they have no time to be agreeable, and no desire to be useful," Memoirs, vol.'Ii. p.

165.-E.

(658) On the 16th of July, five days after the dismissal of M.

Necker, the National a.s.sembly obtained his recall. His return from Basle to Paris was one continued triumph. During the next twelve months, he was constantly presenting new financial statements; but he soon perceived that his influence was daily diminishing: at length the famous Red Book appeared, and completely put an end to his popularity. In September 1790, his resignation was accepted: as he was quitting the kingdom, his carriage was stopped by the same populace which had so recently drawn him into Paris in triumph; and it was necessary to apply to the a.s.sembly for an order, directing that he should be allowed to proceed to Switzerland. He obtained this permission, and retired to Coppet, "there," says M. Thiers, "to contemplate at a distance, a revolution which he was no longer qualified to observe Closely Or to guide."-E.

(659) The Duke, who was colonel of the King's guard, narrowly escaped a.s.sa.s.sination.-E.

(660) After an inquiry, inst.i.tuted by the National a.s.sembly, the whole was found to be a villanous fabrication.-E.

Letter 338 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(661) Strawberry Hill, July 31, 1789. (PAGE 431)

Having had my house full of relations till this evening, I could not answer the favour of your letter Sooner; and now I am ashamed of not being able to tell you that I have finished reading your "Essay on the Ancient History of Scotland." I am so totally unversed in the story of original nations, and I own always find myself so little interested in savage manners una.s.sisted by individual characters, that, though you lead me with a firmer hand than any historian through the dark tracts, the clouds rose round me the moment I have pa.s.sed them, and I retain no memory of the ground I have trod. I greatly admire your penetration, and read with wonder your clear discovery of the kingdom of Strathclyde; but, though I bow to you, as I would to the founder of an empire, I confess I do not care a straw about your subjects, with whom I am no more acquainted than with the ancient inhabitants of Otaheite. Your origin of the Piks is most able; but then I cannot remember them with any precise discrimination from any other hyperborean nation; and all the barbarous names at the end of the first volume, and the gibberish in the Appendix, was to me as unintelligible as if Repeated Abracadabra; and made no impression on me but to raise respect of your patience, and admire a sagacity that could extract meaning and suite from what seemed to me the most indigestible of all materials. You rise in my estimation in Proportion to the disagreeable ma.s.s of your ingredients. What gave me pleasure that I felt, was the exquisite sense and wit of your Introduction; and your masterly handling and confutation of the Macphersons, Whitaker, etc.

there and through your work. Objection I have but one, I think you make yourself too much a party against the Colts. I do not think they were or are worthy of hatred.

Upon the whole, dear Sir, you see that your work is too learned and too deep for my capacity and shallow knowledge. I have told you that my reading and knowledge is and always was trifling and superficial, and never taken up or pursued but for present amus.e.m.e.nt. I always was incapable of dry and unentertaining studies; and of all studies the origin of nations never was to my taste. Old age and frequent disorders have dulled both my curiosity and attention, as well as weakened my memory; and I cannot fix my attention to long deductions. I say to myself, "What is knowledge to me who stand on the verge, and must leave any old stores as well as what I may add to them; and how little could that be?"

Having thus confessed the truth, I am sure you are too candid and liberal to be offended - you cannot doubt of my high respect for your extraordinary abilities I am even proud of having discovered them of myself without any clue. I should be very insincere, if I pretended to have gone through with eagerness your last work, which demands more intense attention than my age, eyes, and avocations will allow. I cannot read long together; and you are sensible that your work is not a book to be'rea'd' by s.n.a.t.c.hes and intervals; especially as the novelty, to me at least, requires some helps to connect it with the memory.

(661) Now first collected.

Letter 339 To Miss Hannah More.(662) Strawberry Hill, August 9, 1789. (PAGE 432)

You are not very corresponding, (though better of late,) and therefore I will not load the conscience of your fingers much, lest you should not answer me in three months. I am happy that you are content with my edition of your Ghost, and with the brown copy. Every body is charmed with your poem: I have not heard one breath but of applause. In confirmation, I enclose a note to me from the d.u.c.h.ess of Gloucester, who certainly never before wished to be an auth.o.r.ess. You may lay it up in the archives of Cowslip-green, and carry it along with your other testimonials to Parna.s.sus.(663) Mr. Carter, to whom I sent a copy, is delighted with it. The Bishop, with whom I dined last week, is extremely for your printing an edition for yourself, and desired I would press you to it. Mind, I do press you: and could Bonner's Ghost be laid again,-which is ,impossible, for it will walk for ever, and by day too,--we would have it laid in the Red Sea by some West India merchant, who must be afraid of spirits, and cannot be in charity with you. Mrs. Boscawen dined at Fulham with me. It rained all day; and, though the last of July, we had fires in every room, as if Bonner had been still in possession of the see.

I have not dared to recollect you too often by overt acts, dear Madam; as, by the slowness of your answer, you seem to be sorry my memory was so very alert. Besides, it looks as if you had a mind to keep me at due distance, by the great civility and cold complimentality of your letter; a style I flattered myself you had too much good will towards me to use. Pretensions to humility I know are generally traps to flattery; but, could you know how very low my opinion is of myself, I am sure you would not have used the terms to me you did, and which I will not repeat, as they are by no means applicable to me. If I ever had tinsel parts, age has not only tarnished them, but convinced me how frippery they were.

Sweet are your Cowslips, sour my Strawberry Hill; My fruits are fallen, your blossoms flourish still.

Mrs. Boscawen told me last night, that she had received a long letter from you, which makes me flatter myself you have no return of your nervous complaints. Mrs. Walsingham I have seen four or five times - Miss Boyle has decorated their house most charmingly; she has not only designed, but carved in marble, three beautiful base reliefs, with boys, for a chimney-piece; besides painting elegant panels for the library, and forming, I do not know how, pilasters of black and gold beneath gla.s.s; in short, we are so improved in taste, that, if it would be decent, I could like to live fifty or sixty years more, just to see how matters go on. In the mean time, I wish my Macbethian wizardess would tell me "that Cowslip Dale should come to Strawberry Hill;"

which by the etiquette of oracles, you know, would certainly happen, because so improbable. I will be content if the nymph of the dale will visit the old man of the mountain, and her most sincere friend.