Books: Letters of Horace Walpole, V4

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Sunday night, 28th, 1794.

I have received another letter from dear Mary, of the 26th; and
here is one for sweet Agnes enclosed. By her account of
Broadstairs, I thought you at the North Pole; but if you are, the
whales must be metamorphosed into gigs and whiskies, or split
into them, as heathen gods would have done, or Rich the
harlequin. You talk of Margate, but say nothing of Kingsgate,
where Charles Fox's father scattered buildings of all sorts, but
in no style of architecture that ever appeared before or has
since, and in no connexion with or to any other, and in all
directions; and yet the oddity and number made that naked, though
fertile soil, smile and look cheerful. Do you remember Gray's
bitter lines on him and his vagaries and history?(890)

I wish on your return, if in good weather, you would contrive to
visit Mr. Barrett's at Lee; it is but four miles from Canterbury.
You will see a child of Strawberry prettier than the parent, and
so executed and so finished! There is a delicious closet, too,
so flattering to me: and a prior's library so antique, and that
does such honour to Mr. Wyat's taste! Mr. Barrett, I am Most
sure, would be happy to show his house to you; and I know, if you
tell him that I beg it, he will produce the portrait of Anne of
Cleve by Holbein, in the identic ivory box, turned like a
Provence rose, as it Was brought over for Henry the Eighth. It
will be a great favour, and it must be a fine day; for it lives
in cotton and clover, and he justly dreads exposing it to any
damp. He has some other good pictures; and the whole place is
very pretty, though retired.

The Sunday's paper announces a dismal defeat of Clairfait; and
now, if true, I doubt the French will drive the Duke of York into
Holland, and then into the sea! Ora pro nobis!

P. S. If this is not a long letter, I do not know what is. The
story of the ghost should have arrived on this, which is St.
Goose's-day, or the commemoration of the ignoble army of martyrs,
who have suffered in the persecution under that gormandizing
archangel St. Michael.

(889) The Right Rev. Sir William Ashburnham, Bart, his lordship
died at a very advanced age, in September 1797. He was the
father of the bench, and the only bishop not appointed by George
the Third.-E.

(890) Entitled "Impromptu, suggested by a view, in 1766, of the
seat and ruins of a deceased Nobleman, at Kingsgate, Kent." See
Gray's Works, vol. i. p. 161, ed. 1836.-E.

Letter 416 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, Tuesday, Oct. 7, 1794. (page 561)

Your answer, which I own arrived a day sooner than I flattered
myself it would--I wish it could have told me how you passed the
storm of Sunday night it has not only relieved me from all
anxiety on the subject, but has made me exceedingly happy; for
though I mistook you for a moment, it has proved to me, that I
had judged perfectly right of your excellent and most uncommon
understanding. Astonished I was, no doubt, while I conceived
that you wished to be placed in a situation so unworthy of your
talents and abilities and knowledge, and powers of
conversation.(891) I never was of a court myself; but from my
birth and the position of my father, could but, for my first
twenty years, know much of the nature of the beast; and, from my
various connexions since, I have seldom missed farther
opportunities of keeping up my acquaintance even with the
interior. The world in general is not ignorant of the complexion
of most courts; though ambition, interest, and vanity, are always
willing to leap over their information, or to fancy they can
counteract it: but I have no occasion to probe that delusion, nor
to gainsay your random opinion, that a court life may be eligible
for women. Yes, for the idle ones you specify, perhaps so;-for
respectable women I think much less than even for men. I do not
mean with regard to what is called their character; as if there
were but one virtue with which women have any concern-I speak of
their understanding, and consequential employment of their time.
In a court there must be much idleness, even without dissipation;
and amongst the female constituents, much self-importance
ill-founded; some ambition, Jealousy, envy-and thence hatred,
insincerity, little intrigues for credit, and--but I am talking
as if there were any occasion to dissuade you from what you
despise and I have only stated what occasioned my surprise at
your thinking of what you never did think at all. Still, while I
did suppose that in any pore of your heart there did lurk such a
wish, I did give a great gulp and swallowed down all attempts to
turn your thoughts aside from it--and why? Yes, and you must be
ready to ask me, how such a true friend could give into the hint
without such numerous objections to a plan so unsuitable for you!
Oh! for strong reasons too. In the first place, I was sure,
that, without my almost century of experience, your good sense
must have anticipated all my arguments. You often confute my
desultory logic on points less important, as I frequently find;
but the true cause of my assenting, without suffering a sigh to
escape me was, because I was conscious that I could not dissuade
you fairly, without a grain or more of self mixing in the
argument. I would not trust myself with myself. I would not act
again as I did when you was in Italy; and answered you as fast as
I could, lest self should relapse. Yet, though it did not last
an hour, what a combat it was! What a blow to my dream of
happiness, should you be attached to a court! for though you,
probably, would not desert Cliveden entirely, how distracted
would Your time be!--But I will not enter into the detail of my
thoughts; you know how many posts they travel in a moment, when
my brain is set at work, and how firmly it believes all it
imagines: besides the defalcation of your society, I saw the host
of your porphyrogeniti, from top to bottom, bursting on my
tranquillity. But enough: I conquered all these dangers, and
still another objection rose when I had discovered the only
channel I could open to your satisfaction, I had no little
repugnance to the emissary I was to employ.(892) Though it is my
intention to be equitable to him, I should be extremely sorry to
give him a shadow of claim on me; and you know those who might
hereafter be glad to conclude, that it was no wonder they should
be disappointed, when gratitude on your account had been my
motive. But my cares are at an end; and though I have laboured
through two painful days, the thorns of which were sharpened, not
impeded, by the storm, I am rejoiced at the blunder I made, as it
has procured me the kindest, and most heart-dictated, and most
heartfelt letter, that ever was written; for which I give you
millions of thanks. Forgive my injurious surmise; for you see,
that though you can wound my affection, you cannot allay its
eagerness to please you, at the expense of my own satisfaction
and peace.

Having stated with most precise truth all I thought related to
yourself I do resume and repeat all I have said both in this and
my former letter, and renew exactly the same offers to my sweet
Agnes, if she has the least wish for what I supposed you wished.
Nay, I owe still more to her; for I think she left Italy more
unwillingly than you did, and gratitude to either is the only
circumstance that can add to my affection for either. I can
swallow my objections to trying my nephew as easily for her as
for you; but, having had two days and a half for thinking the
whole case over, I have no sort of doubt but the whole
establishment must be completely settled by this time; or that,
at most, if any, places are not fixed yet, It must be from the
strength and variety of contending interests: and, besides, the
new Princess will have fewer of each class of attendants than a
queen; and I shall not be surprised if there should already be a
brouillerie between the two courts about some or many of the
nominations: and though the interest I thought of trying was the
only one I could pitch upon, I do not, on reflection, suppose
that a person just favoured has favour enough already to
recommend others. Hereafter that may be better: and (" still
more feasible method, I think, would be to obtain a promise
against a vacancy; which, at this great open moment nobody will
think of asking, when the present is so uppermost in their minds:
and now my head is cool, perhaps I could strike out more
channels, should your sister be so inclined. But of that we will
talk when we meet.

Thursday.

I have received the second letter that I expected, and it makes
me quite happy on all the points that disquieted me; on the
court, on the tempest, and I hope on privateers, as you have so
little time to stay on Ararat, and the winds that terrify me for
you, will, I trust, be as formidable to them. Above, all, I
rejoice at your approaching return; on which I would not say a
syllable seriously, not only because I would have you please
yourselves, but that you may profit as much as possible by change
of air. I retract all my mistake; and though, perhaps, I may
have floundered on with regard to A., still I have not time to
correct or write any part of it over again. Besides, every word
was the truth of my heart; and why should not you see what is or
was in it? Adieu!

(891) This alludes to a wish he supposed Miss Berry to have had
for a nomination in the household of Caroline Princess of Wales,
then forming.-M.B.

(892) Lord Cholmondeley, then residing in the Isle of Thanet.

Letter 417To The Miss Berrys.
October 17, 1794. (page 563)

I had not the least doubt of Mr. Barrett's showing you the
greatest attention: he is a most worthy man, and has a most
sincere friendship for me, and I was sure would mark to any
persons that I love. I do not guess what your criticisms on his
library will be: I do not think we shall agree in them; for to me
it is the most perfect thing I ever saw, and has the most the air
it was intended to have--that of an abbot's library, supposing it
could have been so exquisitely finished three hundred years ago.
But I am sorry he will not force Mr. Wyat to place the Mabeuse
over the chimney; which is the sole defect, as not distinguished
enough for the principal feature of the room. My closet is as
perfect in its way as the library; and it would be difficult to
suspect that it had not been a remnant of the ancient convent,
only newly painted and gilt. My cabinet, nay, nor house, convey
any conception; every true Goth must perceive that they are more
the works of fancy than of imitation.

I believe the less that our opinions will coincide, as you speak
so slightingly of the situation of Lee, which I admire. What a
pretty circumstance is the little river! and so far from the
position being insipid, to me it has a tranquil cheerfulness that
harmonizes with the house, and seems to have been the judicious
selection of a wealthy abbot, who avoided ostentation, but did
not choose austere gloomth. I do not say that Lee is as gay as a
watering-place upon a naked beach. I am very glad, and much
obliged to you for having consented to pass the night at Lee. I
am sure it made Mr. Barrett very happy. I shall let him know how
pleased you was; and I too, for his attentions to you.

The mass of politics is so inauspicious, that if I tapped it, I
should not finish my letter for the post, and my reflections
would not contribute to your amusement; which I should be sorry
to interrupt, and -which I beg you to pursue as long as it is
agreeable to you. It is satisfaction enough to me to know you
are happy; and it is my study to make you so, as far as my little
power can extend: and, as I promised you on your Condescension in
leaving Italy at my prayer, I will never object to whatever you
like to do, and will accept, and Wait with patience for, any
moments you will bestow on your devoted Orford.

Letter 418 To The Rev. William Beloe.(893)
Strawberry Hill, Dec. 2, 1794. (page 564)

I do beg and beseech you, good Sir, to forgive me, if I cannot
possibly consent to receive the dedication you are so kind and
partial as to propose to me. I have in the most positive, and
almost uncivil manner, refused a dedication or two lately.
Compliments on virtues which the persons addressed, like me,
seldom possessed, are happily exploded and laughed out of use.
Next to being ashamed of having good qualities bestowed on me to
which I should have no title, it would hurt to be praised on my
erudition, which is most superficial; and on my trifling
writings, all of which turn on most trifling subjects. They
amused me while writing them; may have amused a few persons; but
have nothing solid enough to preserve them from being forgotten
with other things of as light a nature. I Would not have your
judgment called in question hereafter, if somebody reading your
Aulus Gellius should ask, "What were those writings of Lord O.
which Mr. Beloe so much commends? Was Lord O. more than one of
the mob of gentlemen who wrote with ease?" Into that class I
must sink; and I had rather do so imperceptibly, than to be
plunged down to it by the interposition of the hand of a friend,
who could not gainsay the sentence.

For your own sake, my good Sir, as well as in pity to my
feelings, who am sore at your offering what I cannot accept,
restrain the address to a mere inscription. You are allowed to
be an excellent translator of classic authors; how unclassic
would a dedication in the old-fashioned manner appear! If you had
published a new edition of Herodotus or Aulus Gellius, would you
have ventured to prefix a Greek or Latin dedication to some
modern lord with a Gothic title'! Still less, had those addresses
been in vogue at Rome,. would any Roman author have inscribed
his work to Marcus, the incompetent son of Cicero, and told the
unfortunate offspring of so great a man, Of his high birth and
declension of ambition? which would have excited a laugh on poor
Marcus, who, whatever may have been said of him, had more sense
than to leave proofs to the public of his extreme inferiority to
his father.

(893) Rector of Allhallows, London Wall, prebendary of Pancras in
St. Paul's cathedral, and prebendary of Lincoln. In 1791, be
published a translation of Herodotus, and in 1795, the
translation of the "Attic Nights of Aulus Gellius," referred to
in the above letter. He was also the author of " Anecdotes of
Literature and Scarce Books," in six volumes octavo; and after
his death, which took place in 1817, appeared "The Sexagenarian,
or Recollections of a Literary Life;" which, though a posthumous
publication, was printed under his inspection.-E.

Letter 419 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, Saturday night, Jan. 24, 1795. (page 565)

My best Madam,
I will never more complain of your silence; for I am perfectly
convinced that you have no idle, no unemployed moments. Your
indefatigable benevolence is incessantly occupied in good works;
and your head and your heart make the utmost use of the excellent
qualities of both. You have given proofs of the talents of one,
and you certainly do not wrap the still more precious talent of
the other in a napkin. Thank you a thousand times for your most
ingenious plan; may great success reward you! I sent one
instantly to the Duchess of Gloucester, whose piety and zeal
imitate yours at a distance: but she says she cannot afford to
subscribe just at this severe moment, when the poor so much want
her assistance, but she will on the thaw, and should have been
flattered by receiving a plan from yourself. I sent another to
Lord Harcourt, who, I trust, will show it to a much greater lady;
and I repeated some of the facts you told me of the foul fiends,
and their anti-More activity. I sent to Mr. White for half a
dozen more of your plans, and will distribute them wherever I
have hopes of their taking root and blossoming. To-morrow I will
send him my subscription;(894) and I flatter myself you will not
think it a breach of Sunday, nor will I make this long, that I
may not widen that fracture. Good night! How calm and
comfortable must your slumbers be on the pillow of every day's
good deeds!

Monday.

Yesterday was as dark as midnight. Oh! that it may be the
darkest day in all respects that we shall see! But these are
themes too voluminous and dismal for a letter, and which your
zeal tells me you feel too intensely for me to increase, when you
are doing all in your power to counteract them. One of my
grievances is, that the sanguinary inhumanity Of the times has
almost poisoned one's compassion, and makes one abhor so many
thousands of our own species, and rejoice when they suffer for
their crimes. I could feel no pity on reading the account of the
death of Condorcet (if true, though I doubt it). He was one of
the greatest monsters exhibited by history; and is said to have
poisoned himself from famine and fear of the guillotine; and
would be a new instance of what I suggested to you for a tract,
to show, that though we must not assume a pretension to judging
of divine judgments, yet we may believe that the economy of
Providence has so disposed causes and consequences, that such
villains as Danton, Robespierre, the Duke of Orleans, etc. etc.
etc. do but dig pits for themselves. I will check myself, or I
shall wander into the sad events of the last five years, down to
the rage of party that has sacrificed Holland! What a fund for
reflection and prophetic apprehension! May we have as much wisdom
and courage to stem our malevolent enemies, as it is plain, to
our lasting honour, we have had charity to the French emigrants,
and have bounty for the poor who are suffering in this dreadful
season!

Adieu! thou excellent woman! thou reverse of that hyena in
petticoats, Mrs. Wolstoncroft, who to this day discharges her ink
and gall on Marie Antoinette, whose unparalleled sufferings have
not Yet stanched that Alecto's blazing ferocity. Adieu! adieu!
Yours from my heart.

P. S. I have subscribed five guineas at Mr. White's to your plan.

(894) To the fund for promoting the printing and dispersion of
the works sold at the Cheap Repository.

Letter 420 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 13, 1795. (page 566)

I received your letter and packet of lays and virelays, and
heartily wish they may fall in bad ground, and produce a hundred
thousand fold, as I doubt is necessary. How I admire the
activity of your zeal and perseverance! Should a new church ever
be built, I hope in a side chapel there will be an altar
dedicated to St. Hannah, Virgin and Martyr; and that Your pen,
worn to the bone, will be enclosed in a golden reliquaire, and
preserved on the shrine.

These few words I have been forced to dictate, having had the
gout ill my right hand above this fortnight; but I trust it is
going off The Duchess was much pleased with your writing to her,
and ordered me to thank you. Your friend Lady Waldegrave is in
town, and looks very well. Adieu, best of women! Yours most
cordially.(895)

(895) In a letter to her sister, dated from Fulham Palace, Miss
More says,--"Lord Orford has presented me with Bishop Wilson's
edition of the Bible, in three volumes quarto, superbly bound in
morocco (Oh! that he would himself study that blessed book), to
which, in the following most flattering inscription, he
attributes my having done far more good than is true--

"To his excellent friend, MISS HANNAH MORE, THE BOOK,
which he knows to be the dearest object of her study, and by
which, to the great comfort and relief
of numberless afflicted and distressed individuals,
she has profited beyond any person with whom he is acquainted, is
offered, as a mark of his esteem and gratitude, by her sincere
and obliged humble servant, Horace, Earl of Orford, 1795."

Letter 421 To William Roscoe, Esq.
Berkeley Square, April 4, 1795. (page 567)

To judge of my satisfaction and gratitude on receiving the very
acceptable present of your book,(896) Sir, you should have known
my extreme impatience for it from the instant Mr. Edwards had
kindly favoured me with the first chapters. You may consequently
conceive the mortification I felt at not being able to thank you
immediately both for the volume and the obliging letter that
accompanied it, by my right arm and hand being swelled and
rendered quite immovable and useless, of which you will perceive
the remains if you can read these lines which I am forcing myself
to write, not without pain, the first moment I have power to hold
'a pen; and it will cost me some time, I believe, before I can
finish my whole letter, earnest as I am, Sir, to give a loose to
my gratitude.

If you ever had the pleasure of reading such a delightful book as
your own, imagine, Sir, what a comfort it must be to receive such
an anodyne in the midst of a fit of the gout that has already
lasted above nine weeks, and which at first I thought might carry
me to Lorenzo de' Medici before he should come to me.

The complete volume has more than answered the expectations which
the sample had raised. The Grecian simplicity of the style is
preserved throughout; the same judicious candour reigns in every
page; and without allowing yourself that liberty of indulging
your own bias towards good or against criminal characters, which
over-rigid critics prohibit, your artful candour compels your
readers to think with you, without seeming to take a part
yourself. You have shown from his own virtues, abilities, and
heroic spirit, why Lorenzo deserved to have Mr. Roscoe for his
biographer. And since you have been so, Sir, (for he was not
completely known before, at least out of Italy,) I shall be
extremely mistaken if he is not henceforth allowed to be, in
various lights, one of the most excellent and greatest men with
whom we are well acquainted, especially if we reflect on the
shortness of his life and the narrow sphere in which he had to
act. Perhaps I ought to blame my own ignorance, that I did not
know Lorenzo as a beautiful poet: I confess I did not. Now I do,
I own I admire some of his sonnets more than several-yes, even of
Petrarch; for Lorenzo's are frequently more clear, less
alembiquis, and not inharmonious as Petrarch's often are from
being too crowded with words, for which room is made by numerous
elisions, which prevent the softening alternacy of vowels and
consonants. That thicket of words was occasioned by the
embarrassing nature of the sonnet: a form of composition I do not
love, and which is almost intolerable in any language but
Italian, which furnishes such a profusion of rhymes. To our
tongue the sonnet is mortal, and the parent of insipidity. The
Mutation in some degree of it was extremely noxious to a true
poet, our Spenser; and he was the more injudicious by lengthening
his stanza in a language so barren of rhymes as ours, and in
which several words, whose terminations are of similar sounds,
are so rugged, uncouth, and unmusical. The consequence was, that
many lines which he forced into the service to complete the quota
of his stanza are unmeaning, or silly, or tending to weaken the
thought he would express.

Well, Sir: but if you have led me to admire the compositions of
Lorenzo, you have made me intimate with another poet, of whom I
had never heard nor had the least suspicion; and who, though
writing in a less harmonious language than Italian, outshines an
able master of that country, as may be estimated by the fairest
of all comparisons -which is, when one of each nation versifies
the same ideas and thoughts. That novel poet I boldly pronounce
is Mr. Roscoe. Several of his translations of' Lorenzo are
superior to the originals, and the verses more poetic; nor am I
bribed to give this opinion by the present of your book, nor by
any partiality, nor by the surprise of finding so pure a writer
of history as able a poet. Some good judges to whom I have shown
your translations entirely agree with me. I will name one most
competent judge, Mr. Hoole, so admirable a poet himself, and such
a critic in Italian, as he has proved by a translation of
Ariosto. That I am not flattering you, Sir, I will demonstrate;
for I am not satisfied with one essential line in your version of
the most beautiful, I think, of all Lorenzo's stanzas. It is his
description of Jealousy, in page 268, equal, in my humble
opinion, to Dryden's delineations of the Passions, and the last
line of which is--

Mai dorme, ed ostinata, a se sol crede.

The thought to me is quite new, and your translation I own does
not come up to it. Mr. Hoole and I hammered at it, but could not
content ourselves. Perhaps by altering your last couplet you may
enclose the whole sense, and make it equal to the preceding six.

I will not ask your pardon, Sir, for taking so much liberty with
you. You have displayed so much candour and are so free from
pretensions, that I am confident you will allow that truth is the
sole ingredient that ought to compose deserved incense; and if
ever commendation was sincere, no praise ever flowed with purer
veracity than all I have said in this letter does from the heart
of, Sir, your infinitely obliged humble servant.