Distance of time and place has totally blotted from my mind all traces either of resentment or prejudice; and I speak with the same indifference of the court of G. B. as I should do of that of Augustus Cæsar. I hope you have not so ill an opinion of me to think I am turning author in my old age. I can assure you I regularly burn every quire as soon as it is finished; and mean nothing more than to divert my solitary hours. I know mankind too well to think they are capable of receiving the truth, much less of applauding it or, were it otherwise, applause to me is as insignificant as garlands on the dead. I have no concern beyond my own family; but your father's silence gives me great pain. I have not heard from him since last April. Let me know the reason of it, and write as often as you can to your most affectionate mother. My compliments to Lord Bute, and blessing to all yours. TO THE COUNTESS OF BUTE. Venice, Oct. 3 [1758]. MY DEAR CHILD,-I am under a sort of necessity of troubling you with an impertinent letter. Three fine ladies (I should say four, including the Signora Madre) set out for London a few days ago. As they have no acquaintance there, I think it very possible (knowing their assurance) that some of them may try to make some by visiting you, perhaps in my name. Upon my word I never saw them except in public and at the resident's, who, being one of their numerous passionate admirers, obliged his wife to receive them. The father's name was Wynn. Some say he had £1200 per annum, others £2000. He came several years since to Venice to dissipate his affliction for the loss of his lady. He was introduced by his Gondolier (who are as industrious as the drawers at London) to this Greek, who I believe was then remarkably handsome, having still great remains of beauty. He liked her well enough to take her into keeping, and had three daughters by her, before her artifices prevailed on him to marry her. Since that she produced two boys. Mr. W. died here, leaving all his children infants. He left the girls £1500 each. The mother carried them all to England, I suppose being told it was necessary to prove her marriage. She stayed there one year, but being tired of the place, where she knew nobody, nor one word of the language, she returned hither, where she has flourished exceedingly, and receives the homage of all the young fellows in the town, strangers and natives. They kept a constant assembly, but had no female visitors of any distinction. The eldest daughter speaks English. I have said enough of them to hinder your being deceived by them, but should have said much more, if you had been at Caenwood, in full leisure to read novels. The story deserves the pen of my dear Smollett, who, I am sorry, disgraces his talent by writing those stupid romances commonly called history. Shebbeare does yet worse,' and dabbles in filthy politics, instead of making more Lydias for my entertainment. Lord Brudenell has been here a fortnight, and been several times to see me. He has a general good character, and some resemblance of [the Duchess of] Montagu. I am sorry your father has parted with Twickenham. I am afraid 'tis with an intention of passing much of his time at a distance from London. I wish, both for his sake and yours, he was often with you. General Graham and Colonel Hamilton (who always toasts Lady Anne Stuart) dined with me yesterday. I am ever, my dearest child, your most affectionate mother. My compliments to Lord Bute, and blessing to all yours. TO LADY FRANCES STEUART. [Indorsed, "From Venice, Oct. 5th."] [1758.] I AM exceedingly delighted, my dear Lady Fanny, to hear of the recovery of health and spirits: if my prayers or endeavours prevail, you will never have anything to dis your 1 Shebbeare was prosecuted for writing a political pamphlet called Letters to the People of England in 1759, and found guilty. When in the pillory at Charing-cross, a footman stood beside him holding an umbrella over him. Having caused handbills to be circulated among the populace inviting them to see the British champion of liberty of the press in the pillory, he was received by the people with loud cheers. The under-sheriff was subsequently punished for having allowed him to stand upon, instead of in, the pillory.-T. please you; 'tis the height of my ambition to serve my friends, and their number is so very small, I may hope to succeed without aiming at any great degree of power. My daughter shall be informed of your favourable opinion; she has already all the esteem for your ladyship that your merit exacts from all that know you. Alas, madam! you talk at your ease of two or three years hence; I hardly extend my views to so many weeks, and cannot flatter myself with the hope of seeing you again: I have not your satisfaction less at heart, and am persuaded that I shall be [have?] succeeded in my desire to serve you when I shall no longer be capable of giving thanks for it. I am very sorry for Lord Garlies's loss of his brother; and heartily wish seven or eight more might arise from his ashes. 1 The magnificent rejoicings for the Pope's elevation are not yet over there was last night very fine fireworks before the Palace Rezzonico: I suppose the newspapers have given an account of the regatta, &c. You may be sure I have very little share in the night diversions, which generally begin at the hour I undress for bed. Here are few English this carnival, and those few extremely engaged in parties of pleasure, which, ten to one, they will never forget to their dying day.- -Permit me, dear madam, to address myself to Sir James. I can assure you, sir, I am sincerely grieved at the return of your disorder. You would think me too interested if I recommended a warm climate. I confess self-love will mix even imperceptibly in all our sentiments, yet I verily believe a northern air cannot be good either for you or Lord Marischal.2 I am very much obliged to him for remembering a useless friend and servant my good wishes, with a grateful sense of his civilities, always attend him. I expect with impatience the present you have promised me; it would have been always agreeable, but is particularly so now, when I am in a great town almost as solitary as in a desert. All my pleasures are recollections of those past; there are (I think) some refined metaphysicians that assert they are the only realities. 1 The Honourable George Stewart, son of the sixth Earl of Galloway, was killed at Ticonderago in 1758.-W. 2 George tenth Earl Marischal, born in 1693, served under the Great Frederic, and died at Potsdam, May 28, 1778.—W. I agree they are highly pleasing, with a dash of hope to enliven them; but in my melancholy case, when all my prospects are as bounded as those from a window against a dead wall- -I will not go on in this dismal strain. I wish the post would suffer me to entertain you with some ridiculous farces exhibited by my loving countrymen ; even that is denied me from prudential considerations. Nothing can hinder my being to my last moment faithfully attached to Lady Frances and yourself. To SIR JAMES STEUART. Venice, Oct. 13, 17591 [1758]. You have made (what I did not think possible) writing to you uneasy to me. After confessing that you barbarously criticise my letters, I have much ado to summon up courage enough to set pen to paper. Can you answer this to your conscience, to sit gravely and maliciously to examine lines written with rapidity and sent without reading over? This is worse than surprising a fine lady just sat down to the toilet: I am content to let you see my mind undressed, but I will not have you so curiously remark the defects in it. To carry on the simile, when a beauty appears with all her graces and airs adorned for a ball, it is lawful to censure whatever you see amiss in her ornaments; but when you are received to a friendly breakfast, 'tis downright cruelty or (something worse) ingratitude to view too nicely all the disorder you may see. I desire you would sink the critic in the friend, and never forget that I do not write to you and dear Lady Fanny from my head but from my heart. I wish her joy on the continuance of her taste for punch, but I am sure she will agree with me that the zest of good company is very necessary to give it a flavour: to her it is a vivifying nectar, to me it would be insipid river-water, and chill the spirits it should raise, by reflecting on the cheerful moments we once passed together, which can no more return. This 1 The year appears to have been affixed to some of the letters to Sir J. and Lady F. Steuart conjecturally. In this and other instances I have ventured to transpose them.-T. thought is so very disagreeable, I will put it as far from me as possible. My chief study all my life has been to lighten misfortunes, and multiply pleasures, as far as human nature can when I have nothing to find in myself from which I can extract any kind of delight, I think on the happiness of my friends, and rejoice in the joy with which you converse together, and look on the beautiful young plant from which you may so reasonably expect honour and felicity. In other days I think over the comic scenes that are daily exhibited on the great stage of the world for my entertainment. I am charmed with the account of the Moravians, who certainly exceed all mankind in absurdity of principles and madness of practice; yet these people walk erect, and are numbered amongst rational beings. I imagined after three thousand years' working at creeds and theological whimsies, there remained nothing new to be invented; I see the fund is inexhaustible, and we may say of folly what Horace has said of vice: "Etas parentum pejor avis tulit I will not ask pardon for this quotation; it is God's mercy I did not put it into English: when one is haunted (as I am) by the Demon of Poesie, it must come out in one shape or another, and you will own that nobody shows it to more advantage than the author I have mentioned. Adieu, sir. Read with candour; forgive what you can't excuse, in favour of the real esteem and affection with which I am Lady Fanny's and your most humble servant. Permit my compliments to Mr. Stenart. TO THE COUNTESS OF BUTE. [Oct. 31, 1758.] MY DEAR CHILD,-I received yours of Oct. 2nd this day, the 31st instant. The death of the two great ladies you mention, I believe does not occasion much sorrow; they have long been burthens (not to say nuisances) on the face of the earth. I am sorry for Lord Carlisle.' He was my 1 He died September 4, 1758.-D. |