each other, seems almost to come up audience, however, which you may to mine, who have often been laugh- have upon the first, it will not be difed at by my friends as a systematic ficult to collect what probability there defender of plagiarism: indeed, I is of getting as good, or a better one, got lord Holland, when a school-boy, to the second.

to write some verses in praise of it; It would be very good in argument, and, in truth, it appears to me, that to state the inefficacy of the petitions the greatest poets have been most on the slave trade, in the way you guilty, if guilt there be, in these mat-mention; and I do believe, that, in ters. Dido is surely far superior to fact, the supposed inefficacy of petiMedea in general. Your observation tions has been one of the great causes on the utility of communications up- of the supineness, or rather letharon these subjects may possibly be gy, of the country: but it is not true, the cause of my making many trifling that petitions, though they have been ones upon them. The loss of the ultimately unsuccessful, have been older Roman writers is certainly the therefore wholly inefficacious. The greatest that could have happened to petitions in 1797 produced, as Mr. philology; and probably, too, on ac- Pitt says (and I suspect he says trucount of their own merit, is in every ly), the negotiation at Lisle: no great view a considerable one. Of the good, you will say; but still they more modern writers whom you men- were not wholly inefficacious. And tion, I have never read any but A. even with regard to the slave trade, Gellius. I bought Apuleius last year, I conceive the great numbers which with an intention to read him, but have voted with us, sometimes something or other has always pre-amounting to a majority, have been vented me. I never saw one quota- principally owing to petitions. Even tion from Tertullian that did not ap- now, in this last stage of degradation, pear to me full of eloquence of the I am not sure that if the people were best sort; and have often thought, to petition generally (but it must be on that account, of buying an edition very generally), that it would be withof him but have been rather dis-out effect.

couraged, from supposing that it Your attention to the unfortunate might be necessary to know more wretches you speak of* must do you than I do of the controversies in the highest honour in the eyes of all which he was engaged, to relish him men, even of tory justices; and that properly. is saying (a bold word) Sagraλsov STOS. With respect to your lectures, I Yours ever, C. J. Fox. should think that Latin would succeed better than Greek authors;

but this is very uncertain. From the

* His fellow prisoners.

R 2

BOOK THE SIXTH.

RECENT LETTERS.

SECTION IV.

FROM THE LETTERS OF HORACE WALPOLE, EARL OF ORFORD, H. K. WHITE, AND LORD BYRON.

LETTER I.

the Avare to-night: I cannot at all commend their performance of it.

The Hon. Horace Walpole* to Ri-Last night I was in the Place de chard West, Esq.

Paris, April 21, N. S. 1739.

Louis le Grand (a regular octagon, uniform, and the houses handsome, though not so large as Golden Dear West, Square), to see what they reckoned You figure us in a set of plea- one of the finest burials that ever was sures, which, believe me, we do not in France. It was the duke de find cards and eating are so uni- Tresmes, governor of Paris and marversal, that they absorb all variation shal of France. It began on foot of pleasures. The operas indeed are from his palace to his parish church, much frequented three times a week; and from thence in coaches to the but to me they would be a greater opposite end of Paris, to be interred penance than eating maigre: their in the church of the Celestins, where music resembles a gooseberry tart as is his family vault. About a week ago much as it does harmony. We have we happened to see the grave dignot yet been at the Italian playhouse; ging, as we went to see the church, scarce any one goes there. Their which is old and small, but fuller of best amusement, and which in some fine ancient monuments than any exparts beats ours, is the comedy; three cept St. Denis, which we saw on or four of the actors excel any we the road, and excels Westminster; have but then to this nobody goes, for the windows are all painted in if it is not one of the fashionable mosaic, and the tombs as fresh and nights, and then they go, be the play well preserved as if they were of good or bad-except on Moliere's yesterday. In the Celestins' church nights, whose pieces they are quite is a votive column to Francis II, weary of. Gray and I have been at which says, that it is one assurance of his being immortalized, to have had the martyr Mary Stuart for his

*Afterwards earl of Orford.

wife. After this long digression I the duke de Gesvres' pay him twelve return to the burial, which was a guineas each night for the privilege. most vile thing. A long procession Even the princesses of the blood are of flambeaux and friars; no plumes, dirty enough to have shares in the We trophies, banners, led horses, scutch- banks kept at their houses. eons, or open chariots; nothing but

Friars,
White, black, and grey, with all their trumpery.

have seen two or three of them; but they are not young, nor remarkable but for wearing their red of a deeper dye than other women, though all use

This goodly ceremony began at nine it extravagantly. at night, and did not finish till three The weather is still so bad, that this morning; for, each church they we have not made any excursions to passed, they stopped for a hymn and see Versailles and the environs, not holy water. By the bye, some of even walked in the Thuilleries; but these choice monks, who watched we have seen almost every thing else the body while it lay in state, fell that is worth seeing in Paris, though asleep one night, and let the tapers that is very considerable. They catch fire of the rich velvet mantle, beat us vastly in buildings, both in lined with ermine, and powdered with number and magnificence. The gold flower-de-luces, which melted tombs of Richelieu and Mazarine the lead coffin, and burnt off the feet of at the Sorbonne and the College de the deceased before it wakened them. Quatre Nations are wonderfully fine, The French love show; but there is especially the former. We have a meanness reigns through it all. At seen very little of the people themthe house where I stood to see this selves, who are not inclined to be procession, the room was hung with propitious to strangers, especially if crimson damask and gold, and the they do not play, and speak the lanwindows were mended in ten or a guage readily. If we did not redozen places with paper. At dinner member there was such a place as they give you three courses; but a England, we should know nothing of third of the dishes is patched up with it: the French never mention it, unsalads, butter, puff-paste, or some less it happens to be in one of their such miscarriage of a dish. None proverbs. Adieu! Yours ever. but Germans wear fine clothes; but their coaches are tawdry enough for the wedding of Cupid and Psyche. You would laugh extremely at their signs; some live at the Y grec, some at Venus's coilette, and some at the sucking cat. You would not easily guess their notions of honour: I'll tell you one: it is very dishonourable for any gentleman not to be in the I SHOULD think myself to blame army, or in the king's service, as they not to try to divert you, when you call it, and it is no dishonour to tell me I can. From the air of your keep public gaming houses; there letter you seem to want amusement, are at least an hundred and fifty peo- that is, you want spirits. I would ple, of the first quality in Paris, who recommend to you certain little emlive by it. You may go into their ployments that I know of, and that houses at all hours of the night, and belong to you, but that I imagine find hazard, pharaoh, &c. The bodily exercise is more suitable to men who keep the hazard-table at your complaint. If you would pro

LETTER II.

The Hon. Horace Walpole to Richard West, Esq.

Dear West,

From Paris, 1739.

mise me to read them in the Temple ences, or rather (if there was such a garden, I would send you a little word) all the adaptments, are assempacket of plays and pamphlets that we bled here, that melancholy, mehave made up, and intend to despatch ditation, selfish devotion, and despair to Dick's the first opportunity.-would require. But yet 'tis pleasing. Stand by, clear the way, make room Soften the terms, and mellow the unfor the pompous appearance of Ver-couth horror that reigns here, but a sailles le grand!—But no; it fell so little, and 'tis a charming solitude. short of my idea of it, mine, that I It stands on a large space of ground, have resigned to Gray the office of is old and irregular. The chapel is writing its panegyric. He likes it. gloomy: behind it, through some They say I am to like it better next dark passages, you pass into a large Sunday; when the sun is to shine, obscure hall, which looks like a comthe king is to be fine, the water-works bination-chamber for some hellish are to play, and the new knights of council. The large cloister surthe Holy Ghost are to be installed! rounds their burying-ground. The Ever since Wednesday, the day we cloisters are very narrow, and very were there, we have done nothing long, and let in to the cells, which but dispute about it. They say, we are built like little huts detached did not see it to advantage, that we from each other. We were carried ran through the apartments, saw the into one, where lived a middle-aged garden en passant, and slabbered man, not long initiated into the orover Trianon. I say, we saw no- der. He was extremely civil, and thing. However, we had time to called himself Dom Victor. We have see that the great front is a lumber promised to visit him often. Their of littlenesses, composed of black habit is all white; but besides this, brick, stuck full of bad old busts, he was infinitely clean in his person; and fringed with gold rails. The and his apartment and garden, which rooms are all small, except the great he keeps and cultivates without any gallery, which is noble, but totally assistance, was neat to a degree. wainscoted with looking glass. The He has four little rooms, furnished garden is littered with statues and in the prettiest manner, and hung fountains, each of which has its tu- with good prints. One of them is a telary deity. In particular, the ele- library, and another a gallery. He mentary god of fire solaces himself has several Canary birds disposed in in one. In another, Enceladus, in a pretty manner in breeding cages. lieu of a mountain, is overwhelmed In his garden was a bed of good tuwith many waters. There are ave-lips in bloom, flowers and fruit trees, nues of water-pots, who disport them- and all neatly kept. They are perselves much in squirting up cascade- mitted at certain hours to talk to lins. In short, 'tis a garden for a strangers, but never to one another, great child. Such was Louis Qua- or to go out of their convent. But torze, who is here seen in his proper what we chiefly went to see was the colours, where he commanded in small cloister, with the history of St. person, unassisted by his armies and Bruno, their founder, painted by Le generals, and left to the pursuit of Sœur. It consists of twenty-two his own puerile ideas of glory. pictures, the figures a good deal less We saw last week a place of ano- than life. But sure they are amazther kind, and which has more the air ing! I don't know what Raphael of what it would be, than any thing I may be in Rome, but these pictures have yet met with it was the convent excel all I have seen in Paris and of the Chartreux. All the conveni- England. The figure of the dead

66

man, who spoke at his burial, con- to undergo many transmigrations betains all the strongest and horridest fore I come to yours ever." Yesideas of ghastliness, hypocrisy dis-terday I was a shepherd of Dauphiné; covered, and the height of dam- to-day an Alpine savage; to-morrow nation, pain and cursing. A Bene- a Carthusian monk; and Friday a dictine monk, who was there at the Swiss Calvinist. I have one quality same time, said to me of this picture; which I find remains with me in all C'est une fable, mais on la croyoit worlds and in all æthers; I brought autrefois.* Another, who showed it with me from your world, and am me relics in one of their churches, admired for it in this; 'tis my esteem expressed as much ridicule for them. for you; this is a common thought The pictures I have been speaking among you, and you will laugh at it, of are ill preserved, and some of the but it is new here; as new to refinest heads defaced, which was done member one's friends in the world at first by a rival of Le Sœur's. one has left, as for you to remember Adieu, dear West; take care of your those you have lost, health; and some time or other we will talk over all these things with more pleasure than I have had in seeing them. Yours ever.

LETTER III.

Aix in Savoy, Sept. 30th.

We are this minute come in here, and here's an awkward abbé this minute come in to us. I asked him if he would sit down. Oui, oui, oui. He has ordered us a radish soup for supper, and has brought a chess

The Hon. Horace Walpole to Ri- board to play with Mr. Conway. I

chard West, Esq.

From a Hamlet among the mountains of

have left 'em in the act, and am set down to write to you. Did you ever see any thing like the prospect we saw yesterday? I never did.

We

Savoy, Sept. 28, 1739, N. S. PRECIPICES, mountains, torrents, rode three leagues to see the Grande wolves, rumblings, Salvator Rosa-Chartreuse; expected bad roads, and the pomp of our park, and the meek- the finest convent in the kingdom. ness of our palace! Here we are, the We were disappointed pro and con. lonely lords of glorious desolate pros- The building is large and plain, and pects. I have kept a sort of resolution has nothing remarkable but its priwhich I made of not writing to you as mitive simplicity: they entertained long as I staid in France: I am now a us in the neatest manner, with eggs, quarter of an hour out of it, and write pickled salmon, dried fish, conserves, to you. Mind, 'tis three months cheese, butter, grapes, and figs, and since we heard from you. I begin pressed us mightily to lie there. We this letter among the clouds; where tumbled into the hands of a lay broI shall finish, my neighbour heaven ther, who, unluckily having the probably knows; 'tis an odd wish in charge of the meal and bran, showed a mortal letter, to hope not to finish us little besides. it on this side the atmosphere. You *

will have a billet tumble to you from *

*

*

the stars when you least think of it: But the road, West, the road! windand that I should write it too! Lord, ing round a prodigious mountain, how potent that sounds! But I am and surrounded with others all shagged with hanging woods, obscured with pines or lost in clouds! Below,

* It is a fable, but they believed it once.