E

Though the Parliament has been some time opened, it does not furnish a paragraph. There have been three or four times some angry speeches, but no long debate or division. The Opposition seems very inactive, but promises some vivacity on Indian affairs. Mr. Eden's desertion has been the chief topic of politics, and on his subject the newspapers have been so profuse that I can make no additions to them.

Since I began this, I have received yours of the 28th past; and though your account of yourself is exceedingly welcome and pleasing, I am much grieved that your excellent nephews are leaving you: I am sure they cannot help it, for they have shown how much they prefer attending and saving you trouble. For trouble, I hope you will totally dispense with it: your age, indispostion, and fifty years of exertion of duties, benevolence, and attentions to all the world, demand and claim a quietus; and, if I have any weight with you, I enjoin your taking it out. If their RR.HH. of Gloucester pass through Florence, I do hope and beg that with all your public and private zeal you will not exert a strength you have not in doing honours; they, I am sure, will not expect it from you; and, when one's own health is at stake, dignities are a joke. When I am ill, I look on Royalties as I do when I see them on the stage, as pageants void of reality what signifies whether they are composed of velvet and ermine, or of buckram and tinsel? If death opens one's eyes to the emptiness of glories here, sickness surely ought at least to open one eye. Your sweet nature does not think so roughly as mine, and therefore I prescribe stronger doses to you, which I hope self-preservation will persuade you to follow. Mr. Dutens* was here yesterday, and talked to me for an hour on all your good qualities; and charmed me by describing how the people of Florence, as you pass along the streets, show you to one another with fondness and respect.

I am obliged to you for your accounts of the House of Albany ;† but that extinguishing family can make no sensation here when we have other guess-matter to talk of in a higher and more flourishing race and yet were rumour-ay, much more than rumour, every voice in England-to be credited, the matter, somehow or other, reaches even from London to Rome. I know nothing but the buzz of the day, nor can say more upon it: if I send you a riddle, fame, or echo from so many voices, will soon reach you and explain the enigma; though I hope it is essentially void of truth, and that appearances rise from a much more common cause.

The swelling of my hand is much abated since I began to dictate this yesterday. The day has been so vernal, that my surgeon would

* A French Protestant clergyman, who had been employed in the embassy at Turin under Mr. Mackenzie and Lord Mountstuårt, and author of several works. The Pretender's family.

The connexion of the Prince of Wales with Mrs. Fitzherbert.

have persuaded me to take the air; but I am such a coward about relapses, that I would not venture.

Adieu !

LETTER CCCCXLV.

Berkeley Square, March 16, 1786.

YOUR short letter on losing your two amiable nephews gave me great pain for you, my dear sir. As Sir Horace generally hires post-winds, I expected him the next day: but as the snow had engaged the whole stable of east-winds for this last month, he is not arrived yet, nor Ginori's china neither, which ought to have been here in February; and which disappointment contributed to delay my thanks, though I can say already that

Tuis nunc Omnia plena

Muneribus.

Two additional causes have concurred in my silence: I had nothing new to tell you; and, till within these ten days, my poor lame and cold hands could not move a pen. Our second winter has been bitter; and, though my chalk-mines were exhausted for the present, I did not dare to stir out, nor have yet been abroad in a morning but three times; and yesterday we had a new codicil of snow. Our great roads, spacious and level as they are, are almost impassable.

London has been very calm, both politically and fashionably. Mr. Pitt lost a question, by the Speaker's vote only, on a large plan of fortifications which the Minister had adopted to please the Duke of Richmond. Most other debates roll on the affair of Mr. Hastings, who is black-washed by the Opposition, and is to be white-washed by the House of Commons. I do not know who is guilty or innocent; but I have no doubt but India has been blood-washed by our countrymen !

The present subject of the day comes from a country where there reigns as little equity, and more avowed barbarism, than in India. The hero is a Mr. Fitzgerald, grandson of Lord Hervey, and consequently nephew of his Eminence the Episcopal Earl of Bristol-nor is the nepotism unworthy of the uncle. England, as well as Ireland, has long rung with Fitzgerald's exploits, who has just committed murders that would be almost unparalleled,, if a few years ago he had not attempted the life of his own father, who was defended by another son and yet neither father nor brother were much better than the assassin. The particulars of the present tragedy are too long for a letter, and unnecessary, as they are all in the newspapers. By this time Fitzgerald is hanged, or rescued, or dead of his wounds; for the friends of the murdered broke into the prison, and gave Fitzgerald many wounds, but did not despatch him, as he has long worn

a waistcoat lined with elastic gum, which had very honourably saved his life formerly, when shot in a duel. This savage story is a little relieved by Cagliostro's Memorial, and by the exhibition of Mademoiselle la Chevalière D'Eon, who is come over. I trouble myself little to inquire into either of their histories-one shall never know the real truth of either; and what avails it to scrutinize what is unfathomable? What signifies exploring, when at last one's curiosity may rest on error?

I have a pleasanter theme for my own satisfaction: Captain Hugh Conway, a younger son of Lord Hertford, is going to marry Lady Horatio Waldegrave. He is one of the first marine characters, and has every quality that would adorn any profession; but the striking resemblance between the lovers are good-nature and beauty. Lord Hertford is as much charmed with the match as I am; and we flatter ourselves the Duchess, to whom a courier is gone, and for whose consent they wait, will approve of it too, though it will not be an opulent alliance. Their RR. HH. are at Milan.

Lord and Lady Spencer are arrived, and now I suppose the adventures of a certain Lady† and her Cousin Vernon, which I have kept profoundly secret, will be public. I have lately received a letter from the Lady from Petersburgh: luckily, she gave me no direction to her, no more than from Venice; so, if necessary, I shall plead that I did not know whether I must direct next to Grand Cairo, or Constantinople. Petersburgh I think a very congenial asylum; the Sovereign has already fostered the Ducal Countess of Bristol-for in the family of Hervey double dignities couple with facility. Formerly our outlaws used to concentre at Boulogne; they are now spread over the face of the earth. Mr. Vernon's Cousin tells me she has been also at Warsaw! that she showed the King a letter of mine, who put it into his pocket, translated it into French (though returning the original,) and would send it to his sister the Princess Czartoriski at Vienna:-so, I may see it in an Utrecht Gazette! I know not what it contained; however, I comfort myself that I have never dealt with my heroine but in compliments or good advice: but this comes of corresponding with strolling Roxanas.

I have very lately been lent a volume of poems, composed and printed at Florence, in which another of our ex-heroines, Mrs. Piozzi, has a considerable share: her associates, three of the English bards who assisted in the little garland which Ramsay the painter sent me. The present is a plump octavo; and, if you have not sent me a copy by your nephew, I should be glad if you could get one for me: not for the merit of the verses, which are moderate enough, and faint imitations

*Third daughter of the Duchess of Gloucester by her first husband, James, Earl of Waldegrave. Lady Horatia and Captain Conway were second cousins, once removed.

† Elizabeth Berkeley, Lady Craven, sister of the Earl of Berkeley.

Widow of Mr. Thrale, a great brewer, remarried to Piozzi, an Italian fiddler. She had broken with Sir Horace, because he could not invite her husband with the Italian nobility.

of our good poets; but for a short and sensible and genteel preface by La Piozzi, from whom I have just seen a very clever letter to Mrs. Montagu, to disavow a jackanapes who has lately made a noise here, one Boswell, by anecdotes of Dr. Johnson. In a day or two we expect another collection by the same Signora.

Though I ask for that volume, it made me very indignant. Though that constellation of ignes fatui have flattered one another as if they were real stars, I turned over the whole set of verses, (though I did not read a quarter,) and could not find the only name I expected to see-yours. What stocks and stones!-more insensible than their predecessors, who danced to Orpheus!-who lived under the shade. of your virtues, and could drink of the stream of your humanity, benevolence, and attentions, and not attempt to pay one line to gratitude. If you send me the book, I think I will burn all but the preface.

I hope the spring will recruit your spirits, though it cannot replace your nephews! I am very impatient for their arrival. My own gout is gone, the chalk suspended for the present, and, except being six months older than Methusalem in point of strength, I am as well

as I ever am.*

17th.

Your nephews are arrived; I have seen Sir Horace, he will write to you to-night himself. Adieu !

LETTER CCCCXLVI.

Berkeley Square, March 28, 1786. THIS is but a codicil to my letter of last week, and only to tell you that the Lively is arrived, and that I have received the vases and books; and, by the courier, your letter of the 10th. The form of the vases is handsome; the porcelain and the gilding inferior to ours, and both to those of France; as the paste of ours at Bristol, Worchester, and Derby is superior to all but that of Saxony. The French excel us all in ornaments of taste-I mean, in such ornaments as do not rise to serious magnificence; but they must keep within doors: they may deck dress, furniture, china, and snuff-boxes; but buildings, cities, gardens, will not allow of spangles.

You have not told me whether the vases are of Ginori's or the

*Notwithstanding his increasing infirmities, however, it would appear that his good spirits remained; for Mrs. Hannah More thus speaks of him about this time, April 1786" Neither years nor sufferings can abate, the entertaining powers of the pleasant Horace, which rather improve than decay; though he himself says he is only fit to be a milk woman, as the chalk stones at his fingers' ends qualify him for nothing but scoring, but he declares he will not be a Bristol milkwoman."-Memoirs of Mrs. Hannah More, vol. ii. p. 15.

Great-Duke's manufacture; I imagine, of the former: but I shall ask your nephew when he returns to London. I thank you, too, for the volume of poems by the Quadruple Alliance, which, in my last, I have begged you to send me; a wish you had anticipated. In the case there were also four copies of the Panegyric on Captain Cook, -did you mean any of the copies for any particular persons ?-and the poem on Lord Robert Manners. Once more, thanks for all!

Two days ago appeared Madame Piozzi's Anecdotes of Dr. John

I am lamentably disappointed-in her, I mean; not in him. I had conceived a favourable opinion of her capacity. But this new book is wretched; a high varnished preface to a heap of rubbish, in a very vulgar style, and too void of method even for such a farrago. Her penegyric is loud in praise of her hero; and almost every fact she relates disgraces him. She allows and proves he was arrogant, yet affirms he was not proud; as if arrogance were not the flower of pride. A man may be proud, and may conceal it; if he is arrogant, he declares he is proud. She, and all Johnson's disciples, seem to have taken his brutal contradictions for bons-mots. Some of his own works show that he had, at times, strong, excellent sense; and, that he had the virtue of charity to a high degree, is indubitable: but his friends (of whom he made woful choice) have taken care to let the world know, that in behaviour he was an ill-natured bear, and in opinions as senseless a bigot as an old washerwoman-a brave composition for a philosopher! Let me turn from such a Hottentot to his reverse-to you; to you, the mild, benevolent, beneficent friend of mankind, and the true contented philosopher in every stage. Your last resigned letter is an antidote to all Johnson's coarse, meditated, offensive apophthegms.

As spring must be arrived in Italy, though postponed again here by snow, frosts, and east-winds, I trust your cough will be softened, if not removed. I scarce can bring myself to hope it quite cured. My long observation has persuaded me that a cough, though a vexatious remedy, is a preservative of elderly persons, from exercising and clearing the breast and lungs. I know two or three, who for years have had a constant cough in winter, and who have dangerous illnesses if it does not return in its season.

Thank you for the Leyden Gazette; the theme is still very rife, but with no new event, though contradictory reports are coined every day I do not repeat them, for I know not which are true, nor whether any are.

I interest myself much more in the slight shown to your nephew: it surprised me, for I thought that he at least was acceptible. Your nephew's delicacy was silent to me; and so must I be by the post.

I have at last been paid my fortune by my nephew-just forty years after my father's death! The only surviving son of that Grand Corrupter, who plundered England, has, after forty years, re

* Connexion of the Prince of Wales and Mrs. Fitzherbert.