177 Extracts from the Correspondence of Mr. HARDINGE with the Hon. HORACE WALPOLE *. " Inner Temple, Monday, April 16, 1770. "Mr. Hardinge presents his most respectful compliments to Mr. Walpole. If Mr. Walpole should have it in his power to oblige Mr. Hardinge with a ticket of leave to ride through St. James's Park by speaking a word to my Lord Orford, it will be a serious obligation to Mr. Hardinge; who flatters himself that Mr. Walpole will do him the justice to believe that he does not solicit this privilege for the sake of the idle distinction that is annexed to it, but as a matter of real convenience. The truth is, that Mr. Hardinge is obliged perpetually to ride to Kingston upon business; and, in his way, to bump it upon the stones for upwards of two miles between the Temple and Hyde-Park-Corner; so that such a favour is particularly desirable to him.However, if the request should strike Mr. Walpole as an improper one, he will treat it as it deserves; or, if he should not chuse to lend his recommendation to it, Mr. Hardinge hopes to be forgiven the freedom he has taken in applying; which nothing could have tempted him to do, but his experience of the flattering and kind notice Mr. Walpole has honoured him with." " Inner Temple, April 20, 1770. "Mr. Hardinge is infinitely thankful to Mr. Walpole for the service that he has done him in so engaging a manner; a circumstance that always accompanies and heightens the goodnature of Mr. Walpole. The same elegance of manner that has, if possible, added to the credit of Mr. Walpole's ingenuity as a Writer seems to extend itself to his friendship-or, if that is too bold a word for Mr. Hardinge upon this occasion, to his favour and obliging condescension." [1771.] [This Letter is imperfect.] *** *** the world to write well. Let me add the article of mere style, upon which a great deal depends; for I can by no means agree that words • Provisam rem non invita sequuntur.' "An Essay of this kind requires great clearness and precision of language, with a certain degree of energy, neither too careless, nor too prim; too simple, nor too much adorned, &c.: nor is the outline of method a trifling circumstance; in which, by the way, there never was my Lord Mansfield's equal. Let the call upon him be ever so abrupt and sudden, his mind immediately comprehends the whole subject, he disposes all his materials in order, and the most judicious too that could have been catered for his use by others after a month's application ;—and this talent has great charms-it fascinates the hearer, and often passes for sound reason when it is the vehicle of arrant sophistry. VOL. III. See the "Literary Anecdotes," vol. VIII. p. 527. "To "To leave the great man, and resume the little one. I have learnt the useful virtue of diffidence, and without disgrace, by compelling my own acknowledgment of the quid ferre recusent. I have at the same time stole myself into a habit of industry, which is not amiss to correct my natural idleness--and I have conciliated your good opinion by attempting an imitation of that liberality of sentiment which accompanies what I never shall aspire to (though I am saucy enough to relish it)-an original vein of genius and wit in the writings of Mr. Walpole. Who therefore has, in this view of things, more ground of respectable vanity, than, dear Sir, "Your much honoured, and most affectionate friend and servant, G. HARDINGE." "P.S. It was a favourite subject of Lord Chancellor Hardwicke's, and my Lord Camden has a very high opinion of it; so that I have not much fear of its reception, though it is not an interesting or amusing subject. I shall, at all events, beg to consult your friendship, which I must hope you will not refuse to me. G. H." "DEAR SIR, Inner Temple, Tuesday, April 16, 1771. "Your very good-humoured notice and forgiveness of my bold request has obliged me extremely. I shall certainly take the first opportunity of stealing half an hour of your frail life in a little chat, and will be sure to avail myself of your kind information as to the proper days and hours. I find you have construed my words, deserved the hand of Lord Somers, in a different sense from that which I meant to annex to them: for you seem to collect that my Lord Somers writ upon this topick which I have taken up whereas I only meant to say that he might have writ upon it without letting himself down, the point being of the greatest constitutional moment, though it passes through a dry medium of Law reasoning and science. In short, it is an enquiry into the competency and duty of Juries in the case of a public libel, introduced by a more general investigation of their competency and duty wherever law and fact are comprized in the general issue. I have been exhorted by some improvident friends to publish it, but against this rash step I am almost determined; however, I shall get some copies of it printed, and will certainly present one to you, if you will deign to give it a reading. "I am, dear Sir, with the truest respect, "Your most obedient servant, G. HARDINGE." "DEAR SIR, Inner Temple, Tuesday, May 7, 1771. "Many and many after-thoughts have made such havock in my youthful Essay, that I cannot bring it yet awhile into any thing like a system. However, the part I have sent you being detached from the rest, and less dry than what I am now at work upon, takes the liberty of submitting itself to the honour of your friendly criticism. To say the truth, I am not without a faint hope that, in return for my volunteer exhibition of this paltry work in puris naturalibus, you will admit me now and then to a peep at some beautiful essay of your own; which, by the way, re minds me of Homer's arch Hero, who gave a suit of honest brass armour-and took one of gold in exchange. When shall I drop in upon you? Breakfast hours are the most convenient to me; but any time that may suit you best will supersede every other engagement of mine (a fee only excepted). Believe me, dear Sir, your most affectionate and obliged servant, G. HARDINGE." "DEAR SIR, Inner Temple, June 12, [1771.] "As I am drawing near to the conclusion of my little work; and as I have no copy of the part which I took the liberty of sending to you, I shall be obliged to you if you will be kind enough to return it. I am not without a very flattering hope to be the guest of Mr. Walpole at Strawberry Hill some day this summer: but I tell you this in confidence.-It must not go any further.Do not let him know that I am vain enough to dream of such a distinction. I beg you will believe me, with the highest respect and esteem, dear Sir, &c. G. HARDINGE." " June .., [1771.] "Long as my letters are, I am not so fond of writing as you, my dear Sir, affect to believe. Yours have so agreeable and original a cast, that I would expose mine even more than you suffer me to do, for the sake of extorting from an arrant miser a little of his pelf in such valuable articles. But I will save you from the penance of any further correspondence, at least for a time, on the condition that you will permit me to make you a visit, which I have long desired, at Strawberry Hill.-As to the time, I leave it respectfully to your own leisure, and your own humour for such frolicks; but I must command you to be as quick in your invitation as the caprice of our tempers may appear to require.I will not even decide beforehand how soon I may be tired of you. But modesty compels me to limit your cordiality for me. to one year at the farthest, commencing at the date of these presents. How ingratiating is your polite reproof to me on the subject of confining our intercourse to the ceremonious medium of the Post-office! The real truth is, that I am afraid equally of intruding upon you in letters and in person; but in the former case I avoid being eye-witness to your coldness, the just punishment of my forwardness. "If Dalrymple's book had no other fault but Scoto-Anglicism, I could read it with a tithe of my disgust. May I ask what is to be collected from the whole of that work (supposing it impartial and faithful)—that, in the most critically affecting situation of politics which this country ever saw, neither side of the two leading parties produced a single public man who did not deserve to be hanged?-A comfortable hearing this for us young adventurers!-pour encourager les autres! as Voltaire said, with a most cruelly-just sarcasm, of Byng's fate. I cannot persuade myself that the liberality (as Macaronis may call it) of exposing in the broad glare of day-light the corrupt hearts, and the duplicity of great and favourite characters, be the liberality of a good citizen, or of a benevolent man. As to myself, base and abject as the times are, I N 2 could could as readily deliver up the sexual difference, as the persuasion (however ludicrous it may sound) that a Patriot is a creature that has been forthcoming, and has walked upon two legs in this very Island, since the flood-nay, that the race (though a good deal thinned) is not extinct amongst us to this day. If this creed be an erroneous one, I shall cry out, as Tully did, on the soul's immortality, libenter erro, nec mihi hunc errorem dum vivo extorqueri velim.'-And yet, whether thou too, my Cobham,' &c. is not outré and extravagant, is matter of some doubt. - Upon the death-bed indeed of Epaminondas, Adolphus, or General Wolfe, one may conceive this heroism; but the enthusiasm of action and pride, though of the noblest birth, were great helps to the real virtue of those immortal men. As to myself (who am in my own estimate a Patriot of the first water), I do in my conscience believe that I should not even think of the liberty of the subject, when the Physician had pronounced his anathema-nay, I very much fear that, in my best health and vigour, I shall feel more anxious love towards what Milton calls the charities of a domestic circle, than for the whole Kingdom of England-but of this you will be so ashamed in a Correspondent of yours, that I doubt you will soon disown G. HARDINGE." Temple, Feb. 18, 1772. · MY DEAR SIR, "How hard it is upon me, who have admired your genius and loved your benevolence' from the time whereof the memory of my good taste runneth not to the contrary,' that a certain wicked disparity of age, fortune, rank, and, above all, abilities and worth, should keep me at such a distance, and oblige me to rouse your notice by the powers of teazing, and sheer intrusion! To-day, Sweet Sir, a key or ticket for my horse in St. James's Park.'-To-morrow, Could you but enable me to play the fool at a masquerade!' The next day, Enter Mr. Hardinge as an Author, full of that character's affected humility:'-' The subject is, to be sure, interesting, worthy of Lord Somers;-but my faint efforts tremble, till you condescend to undergo the penance of reading me, or, which is the same thing, to commend me unread, &c. And all this trick upon trick, finesse upon finesse, to get little peeps at you, either in Arlington-street, or at least upon paper!-But, alas! all my wits of the spunging sort are now bankrupt, unless you will accept of this pretty Sonnet forsooth! writ in the Boeotian atmosphere of Chancery-lane !— But why is Mr. Walpole, of all men living, to be the Patron of this quaint pleader-like Muse? Dear Sir! and cannot you really, with your discernment, catch the grounds of this application? Well, if I must explain and explain, and lay open the plot (like Mr. Bayes)-marry, this it is: Here is Friendship and Shakespeare, and a Dulcinea of nine years old. - Well, as to Friendship now, in the first place; why I would rather have you my Friend than his Majesty's First Commissioner of the Treasury. This, you see, makes a connexion between you and the Poem. To proceed : Shakespeare! why there too!-how delicate a thought!-Have not not you vindicated Shakespeare from Voltaire ?-As to the Lady, she is the cream of the jest in point of application; for, as you admire and have writ Sonnets (if the truth were known) to a Prodigy in petticoats *, over whose animating genius churlish Time has no effect, so it is proper that you should be countenanced in this extraordinary attachment, by as extraordinary a one of mine to a Female who disdains receiving any obligations from Time in the maturity of her genius; but has the same force of invention, the same accuracy and elegance of taste, the same wit and sentiment, at nine years old, in her drawings and conversation, which a travelled Peer of thirty has, or thinks he has, in the design of his Vis-à-vis, or his flirting with a sentimental demirep of quality in a side-box at the Opera. Having brought the simile, through as long a sentence as any of Boccace's or Clarendon's, to a well-turned period, I shall only remind you of a case in point, as we Lawyers term it, and conclude. As Sampson lost his strength by cutting off his hair, so I recover mine by taking Hampstead's air. Believe me, dear Sir, "Yours most affectionately, "DEAR SIR, -- G. HARDINGE." Temple, April 18, [1772.] “Thank you, dear Sir, for your friendly and chearing goodness to me. -I have always found you the same; -your partialities for me uniform, and your zeal in the good old cause unimpaired by the Soame Jenyns of the day, who has been Legion for many years past. Unless the Ministers chuse to be Ideots, and pull caps at the Cabinet for the amusement and spirit of the conflict, they are built for ages they have character, wisdom, and, above all, the virtue of necessity, urging them to rouze the lion, but strangle the serpent. My share in this great National redress at present is that of good wishes alone. The time, I hope, will come, in which I may prove that, whatever my situation may be, I cannot act in publick a part that looks to any thing but the publick-or make any thing but the public approbation of my conduct the object of it; an approbation which is always correct and honourable if it is but free. "I am, dear Sir, yours ever most affectionately, G. HARDINGE." "Inner Temple, Monday, May 4, 1772. "How can I thank you enough, my dear Sir, for your very affecting letter! As to my warmth, I neither disown it, nor am angry with its agreeable witchcraft.-But, if I am at all fascinated by such a quotidianus homo as Mr. Walpole, it is by that part of him which bears me out in the highest degree of enthusiasm. Where then is the fascination? A subtle paradox this! And pray what is the source of my attachment to these grey hairs, to this vox Cygnea of past fifty-four? I should insult and affront you if I were to hint at your vivacity, elegance, wit, &c. &c. This would be like Charles Townshend's arch invective against the wicked acuteness of the present Master of the Rollst, or my Lord Chatham's grave panegyrick upon the enlightened soul of * Madam Du Deffand. + Sir Thomas Sewell. |