The Letters of Horace Walpole, Earl of Orford Volume IV Part 51

In those days Old Sarum will again be a town and have houses in it. There will be fights in the air with wind-guns and bows and arrows; and there will be prodigious increase of land for tillage, especially in France, by breaking up all public roads as useless. But enough of my fooleries; for which I am sorry you must pay double, postage.

Letter 285 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(535) October 28, 1784. (page 358)

I would not answer your letter, Sir, till I could tell you that I had put Your play into Mr. Colman's hands, which I have done. He desired my consent to his carrying it into the country to read it deliberately: you shall know as soon as I receive his determination. I am Much obliged to you for the many civil and kind expressions in your letter, and for the friendly information you give me. Partiality, I fear, dictated the former; but the last I can only ascribe to the goodness of your heart. I have published nothing Of any size but the pieces you mention, and one or two small tracts now out of print and forgotten. The rest have been prefaces to my Strawberry editions, and to a few other publications; and some fugitive pieces which I reprinted several years ago in a small volume, and which shall be at your service, with the Catalogue of n.o.ble Authors.

With regard to the bookseller who has taken the trouble to collect my writings, (amongst which I do not doubt but he will generously bestow on me many that I did not write, according to the liberal practice of such compilers,) and who also intends to write my life, to which, (as I never did any thing Worthy of the notice of the public) he must likewise be a volunteer contributor, it Would be vain for me to endeavour to prevent such a design. Whoever has been so ill advised as to throw himself on the public, must pay such a tax in a pamphlet or magazine when he dies; but, happily, the insects that prey on carrion are still more short-lived than the carcases were, from which they draw their nutriment. Those momentary abortions live but a day, and are thrust aside by like embryos. Literary characters, when not ill.u.s.trious, are known only to a few literary men; and amidst the world of books, few readers can come to my share. Printing, that secures existence (in libraries) to indifferent authors of any bulk, is like those cases of Egyptian mummies which in catacombs preserve bodies of one knows not Whom, and which are scribbled over with characters that n.o.body attempts to read, till n.o.body understands the language in which they were written. I believe therefore it Will be most wise to swim for a moment on the pa.s.sing current, secure that it will soon hurry me into the ocean where all things are forgotten. To appoint a biographer is to bespeak a panegyric; and I doubt whether they who collect their books for the Public, and, like me, are conscious of no intrinsic worth, do but beg mankind to accept of talents (whatever they were) in lieu of virtues. To antic.i.p.ate spurious publications by a comprehensive and authentic one, is almost as great an evil: it is giving a body to scattered atoms; and such an act in one's old age is declaring a fondness for the indiscretions of Youth, or for the trifles of an age which, though more mature, is only the less excusable. it is most true, Sir, that, so far from being prejudiced in favour of my own writings I am persuaded that, had I thought early as I think now, I would never have appeared as an author. Age, frequent illness and pain, have given me as many hours of reflection in the intervals of the two latter, as the two latter have disabled from reflection; and, besides their showing me the inutility of all our little views, they have suggested an observation that I love to encourage in myself from the rationality of it. I have learnt and practised the humiliating task of comparing myself with great authors; and that comparison has annihilated all the flattery that self-love could suggest. I know how trifling my own writings are, and how far below the standard that const.i.tutes excellence: as for the shades that distinguish the degrees of mediocrity, they are not worth discrimination; and he must be very modest, or easily satisfied, who can be content to glimmer for an instant a little more than his brethren glow-worms. Mine, therefore, you find, Sir, is not humility, but pride. When young, I wished for fame; not examining whether I was capable of attaining it, nor considering in what lights fame was desirable. There are two sorts of fame; that attendant on the truly great, and that better sort that is due to the good. I fear I did not aim at the latter, not- discovered, till too late, that I could not compa.s.s the former.

Having neglected the best road, and having, instead of the other, strolled into a narrow path that led to no good worth seeking, I see the idleness of my journey, and hold it more graceful to abandon my wanderings to chance or oblivion, than to mark solicitude for trifles, which I think so myself.

I beg your pardon for talking so much of myself; but an answer was due to the unmerited attention which you have paid to my writings. I turn with more pleasure to speak on yours. Forgive me if I shall blame you, whether you either abandon your intention, or are too impatient to execute it.(536) Your preface proves that you are capable of treating the subject ably; but allow me to repeat, that it is a work that ought not to be performed impetuously. A mere recapitulation of authenticated facts would be dry; a more enlarged plan would demand much acquaintance with the characters of the actors, and with the probable sources of measures. The present time is accustomed to details and anecdotes; and the age immediately preceding one's own is less known to any man than the history of any other period. You are young en - ugh, Sir, to collect information on many particulars that will occur in your progress, from living actors, at least from their contemporaries; and, great as your ardour may be, you will find yourself delayed by the want of materials, and by further necessary inquiries. As you have a variety of talents, why should not you exercise them on works that will admit of more rapidity; and at the same time, in leisure moments, commence, digest, and enrich your plan by collecting new matter for it?

In one word, I have too much zeal for your credit, not to dissuade you from precipitation in a work of the kind you meditate. That I speak sincerely you are sure; as accident, not design, made you acquainted with my admiration of your tract on medals. If I wish to delay your history, it must be from wishing that it may appear with more advantages; and I must speak disinterestedly, as my age will not allow me to hope to see it, if not finished soon. I should not forgive myself if I turned you from prosecution of your work; but, as I am certain that my writings can have given you no opinion of my having sound and deep judgment, pray follow your own, and allow no merit but that of sincerity and zeal to the sentiments of yours, etc.

(535) Now first collected.

(536) Of writing a history of the reign of George the Second.

Letter 286 To Miss Hannah More.

Strawberry Hill, Nov. 13, 1784. (page 360)

Thank you a thousand times, dear Madam, for your obliging letter and the new Bristol stones you have sent me, which would pa.s.s on a more skilful lapidary than I am for having been brillianted by a professed artist, if you had not told me that they came shining -out of a native mine, and had no foreign diamond-dust to polish them. Indeed, can one doubt any longer that Bristol Is as rich and warm a soil as India? I am convinced it has been so of late years, though I question its having been so luxuriant in Alderman Canning's days; and I have MORE reasons for thinking so, than from the marvels' of Chatterton.--But I will drop metaphors, lest some nabob should take me au pi'e de la lettre, fit out an expedition, plunder your city, and ma.s.sacre you for weighing too many carats.

Seriously, Madam, I am surprised-and chiefly at the kind of genius of this unhappy female.(537) Her ear, as you remark, is perfect but that, being a gift of nature, amazes me less. Her expressions are more exalted than poetic; and discover taste, as you say, rather than discover flights of fancy and wild ideas, as one should expect. I should therefore advise her quitting blank verse, which wants the highest colouring, to distinguish it from prose; whereas her taste, and probably good sense, might give sufficient beauty to her rhymes. Her not being learned is another reason against her writing in blank verse. Milton employed all his reading, nay, all his geographic knowledge, to enrich his language, and succeeded. They who have imitated him in that particular, have been mere monkeys; and they who neglected it, flat and poor.

Were I not persuaded by the samples you have sent me, Madam, that this woman has talents, I should not advise encouraging her propensity, lest it should divert her from the care of her family, and, after the novelty is over, leave her worse than she was. When the late Queen patronized Stephen Duck,(538) who was only a wonder at first, and had not genius enough to support the character he had promised, twenty artisans and labourers turned poets, and starved.(539) Your poetess can scarce be more miserable than she is, and even the reputation of being an auth.o.r.ess may procure her customers: but as poetry is one of your least excellencies, Madam (your virtues will forgive 'me), I am sure you will not only give her counsels for her works, but for her conduct; and your gentleness will blend them so judiciously, that she will mind the friend as well as the mistress. She must remember that she is a Lactilla, not a Pastora; and is to tend real cows, not Arcadian sheep.

What! if I should go a step farther, dear Madam, and take the liberty of reproving you for putting into this poor woman's hands such a frantic thing as The Castle of Otranto? It was fit for nothing but the age in which it was written: an age in which much was known; that -required only to be amused, nor cared whether its amus.e.m.e.nts were conformable to truth and the models of good sense; that could not be spoiled; was in no danger of being too credulous and rather wanted to be brought back to imagination, than to be led astray by it:-but you will have made a hurly-burly in this poor woman's head, which it cannot develop and digest.

I will not reprove, without suggesting something in my turn.

Give her Dryden's c.o.c.k and Fox, the standard of good sense, poetry, nature, and ease. I would recommend others of his tales: but her imagination is already too gloomy, and should be enlivened; for which reason I do not name Mr. Gray's Eton Ode and Churchyard.' Prior's Solomon (for I doubt his Alma, though far superior, is too learned for her limited reading,) would be very proper. In truth, I think the cast of the age (I mean in its compositions) is too sombre. The flimsy giantry of Ossian has introduced mountainous horrors. The exhibitions at Somerset-house are crowded with Brobdignag ghosts. Read and explain to her a charming poetic familiarity called the Blue-stocking Club. If she has not your other pieces, might I take the liberty, Madam, of begging you to buy them for her, and let me be in your debt? And that your lessons may win their way more easily, even though her heart be good, will you add a guinea or two, as you see proper? And though I do not love to be named, yet, if it would encourage a subscription, I should have no scruple. It will be best to begin moderately! for, if she should take Hippocrene for Pactolus, we may hasten her ruin, not contribute to her fortune.

On recollection, you had better call me Mr. Anybody, than name my name, which I fear is in bad odour at Bristol, on poor Chatterton's account; and it may be thought that I am atoning his ghost: though, if his friends would show my letters to him, you would find that I was as tender to him as to your milkwoman: but that they have never done, among other instances of their injustice. However, I beg you to say nothing on that subject, as I have declared I would not.

I have seen our excellent friend in Clarges-street: she complains as usual of her deafness; but I a.s.sure you it is at least not worse, nor is her weakness. Indeed I think both her and Mr.

Vesey better than last winter. When will you blue-stocking yourself and come amongst us? Consider how many of us are veterans; and, though we do not trudge on foot according to the inst.i.tution, we may be out at heels-and the heel, you know, Madam, has never been privileged.

(537) Mrs. Yearsley, the milkwoman of Bristol, whose talent was discovered by Miss Hannah More, who solicited for her the protection of Mrs. Montagu, in a prefatory letter prefixed to her Poems, published in quarto, in the year 1785.-E.

(538) Some of Stephen Duck the thresher's verses having been shown to Queen Caroline she settled twelve shillings a-week upon him, and appointed him keeper of her select library at Richmond.(539) He afterwards took orders, and obtained the living of Byfleet, in Surrey; but growing melancholy, in 1750, he threw himself into the river, near Reading, and was drowned.

Swift wrote upon him the following epigram--

The thresher, Duck, could o'er the Queen prevail; The proverb says, No fence against a flail; >From threshing corn, he turns to thresh his brains, For which her Majesty allow him grains; Though 'tis confest, that those who ever saw His poems, think them all not worth a straw.

Thrice happy Duck! employ'd in threshing stubble, Thy toil is lessen'd, and thy profits double."-E.

(539) "Robert Bloomfield," says Mr. Crabbe, in his journal for 1817, "had better have rested as a shoemaker, or even a farmer's boy; for he would have been a farmer perhaps in time, and now he is an unfortunate poet." Poor John Clare, it will be recollected, died in a workhouse.-E.

Letter 287 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.

Sunday Night, Nov. 28, 1784. (page 362)

I have received the parcel of papers you sent me, which I conclude come from Lord Strafford, and will apply them as well as I possibly can, you may be sure, but with little hope of doing any good: humanity is no match for cruelty. There are now and then such angelic beings as Mr. Hanway and Mr. Howard; but our race in general is pestilently bad and malevolent. I have been these two years wishing to promote my excellent friend Mr.

Porter's plan for alleviating the woes of chimney-sweepers, but never could make impression on three people; on the contrary, have generally caused a smile.

George Conway's intelligence of hostilities commenced between the Dutch and Imperialists makes me suppose that France will support the former--or could they resist? Yet I had heard that France would not. Some have thought, as I have done, that a combination of part.i.tion would happen between Austria, France, and Prussia, the modern law of nations for avoiding wars. I know nothing: so my conjectures may all be erroneous; especially as one argues reason; a very inadequate judge, as it leaves pa.s.sions, caprices, and accidents, out of its calculation. It does not seem the interest of France, that the Emperor's power should increase in their neighbourhood and extend to the sea. Consequently it is France's interest to protect Holland in concert with Prussia.

This last is a transient power, and may determine on the death of the present King; but the Imperial is a permanent force, and must be the enemy of France, however present connexions may incline the scale.

In any case, I hope we shall no way be hooked into the quarrel not only from the impotence of our circ.u.mstances, but as I think it would decide the loss of Ireland, which seems tranquillizing: but should we have any bickering with France, she would renew the manoeuvres she practised so fatally in America. These are my politics; I do not know with whose they coincide or disagree, nor does it signify a straw. Nothing will depend on my opinion; nor have I any opinion about them, but when I have nothing at all to do that amuses me more, or nothing else to fill a letter.

I can give you a sample of my idleness, what may divert Lady Ailesbury and your academy of arts and sciences for a minute in the evening. It came into my head yesterday to send a card to Lady Lyttelton, to ask when she would be in town; here it is in an heroic epistle:- From a castle as vast as the castles on signs,--

>From a hill that all Africa's molehills outshines, This epistle is sent to a cottage so small, That the door cannot ope if you stand in the hall, To a lady who would be fifteen, if her knight And old swain were as young as Methusalem quite; It comes to inquire, not whether her eyes Are as radiant as ever, but how many sighs He must vent to the rocks and the echoes around, (Though nor echo nor rock in the parish is found,) Before she, obdurate, his pa.s.sion will meet-- His pa.s.sion to see her in Portugal-street?

As the sixth line goes rather too near the core, do not give a copy of it: however, I should be sorry if it displeased; though I do not believe it will, but be taken with good-humour as it was meant.(540)

(540) It was taken in perfect good-humour; and Lady Lyttelton returned the following answer, which Mr. Walpole owned was better than his address:--

"Remember'd, though old by a wit and a beau!

I shall fancy, ere long, I'm a Ninon L'Enclos: I must feel impatient such kindness to meet, And shall hasten my flight into Portugal-street."

Ripley Cottage, 28th Nov.

Letter 288 To Miss Hannah More.

Berkeley Square, April 5, 1785. (page 363)

Had I not heard part of your conversation with Mrs. Carter the other night, Madam, I should certainly not have discovered the auth.o.r.ess of the very ingenious antic.i.p.ation of our future jargon.(541) How should I? I am not fortunate Enough to know all your talents; nay, I question whether you yourself suspect all you possess. Your Bas Bleu is in a style very, different from any of your other productions that I have seen; and this letter, which shows your intuition Into the degeneracy of our language, has a vein of humour and satire that could not be calculated from your Bas Bleu, in which good nature and good-humour had made a great deal of learning wear all the ease of familiarity. I did wish you to write another Percy, but I beg now that you will first produce a specimen of all the various manners in which you can shine; for, since you are as modest as if your issue were illegitimate, I don't know but, like some females really in fault, you would stifle some of your pretty infants, rather than be detected and blush.

In the mean time, I beseech you not only to print your Specimen of the Language that is to be in fashion, but have it entered at Stationers' hall; or depend upon it, if ever a copy falls into the hands of a fine gentleman yet unborn, who shall be able both to read and write, he will adopt your letter for his own, and the Galimatias will give the ton to the court, as Euphues did near two hundred years ago; and then you will have corrupted our language instead of defending it: and surely it is not your interest, Madam, to have pure English grow obsolete.

If you do not promise to grant my request, I will show your letter every where to those that are worthy of seeing it; that is, indeed, in very few places; for you shall have the honour of it. It is one of those compositions that prove themselves standards, by begetting imitations; and if the genuine parent is unknown, it will be ascribed to every body that is supposed (in his own set) to have more wit than the rest of the world. I should be diverted, I own, to hear it faintly disavowed by some who would wish to pa.s.s for its authors; but still there is more pleasure in doing justice to merit, than in drawing vain pretensions into a sc.r.a.pe; and, therefore, I think you and I had better be honest and acknowledge it, though to you (for I am out of the question, but as evidence) it will be painful; for though the proverb says, "Tell truth and shame the devil," I believe he is never half so much confounded as a certain amiable young gentlewoman, who is discovered to have more taste and abilities than she ever ventured to ascribe to herself even in the most private dialogues with her own heart, especially when that native friend is so pure as to have no occasion to make allowances even for self-love. For my part, I am most seriously obliged to you, Madam, for so agreeable and kind a communication.

(541) This is an answer to the following anonymous letter, sent to Mr. Walpole by Miss Hannah More, ridiculing the prevailing adoption of French idioms into the English language. There is not in this satirical epistle one French word nor one English idiom:--

"A Specimen of the English Language, as it will probably be written and spoken in the next century. In a letter from a lady to her friend, in the reign of George the Fifth.

Alamode Castle, June 20, 1840.

Dear Madam, "I NO sooner found myself here than I visited my new apartment, which is composed of five pieces: the small room, which gives upon the garden, is practised through the great one; and there is no other issue. As I was quite exceeded with fatigue, I had no sooner made my toilette, than I let myself fall on a bed of repose, where sleep came to surprise me.

" My lord and I are on the intention to make good cheer, and a great expense; -and this country is in possession to furnish wherewithal to amuse oneself. All that England has of ill.u.s.trious, all that youth has of amiable, or beauty of ravishing, sees itself in this quarter. Render yourself here, then, my friend; and you shall find a.s.sembled all that there is of best, whether for letters, whether for birth.

"Yesterday I did my possible to give to eat; the dinner was of the last perfection, and the wines left nothing to desire. The repast was seasoned with a thousand rejoicing sallies, full of salt and agreement, and one more brilliant than another. Lady France, charmed me as for the first time; she is made to paint, has a great air, and has infinitely of expression in her physiognomy; her manners have as much of natural as her figure has of interesting.

"I had prayed Lady B, to be of this dinner, as I had heard nothing but good of her; but I am now disabused on her subject: she is past her first youth, has very little instruction, is inconsequent, and subject to caution; but having evaded with one of her pretenders, her reputation has been committed by the bad faith of a friend, on whose fidelity she reposed herself; she is, therefore fallen into devotion, goes no more to spectacles, and play is detested at her house. Though she affects a mortal serious, I observed that her eyes were Of intelligence with those of Sir James, near whom I had taken care to plant myself, though this is always a sacrifice which costs. Sir James is a great sayer of nothings; it is a spoilt mind, full of fatuity and pretension: his conversation is a tissue of impertinences, and the bad tone which reigns at present has put the last hand to his defect,. He makes but little care of his word; but, as he lends himself to whatever is proposed of amusing, the women all throw themselves at his head. Adieu"