none of your numerous friends have more taste for your society, and more affection for your unfashionable merits of goodness and virtue, than I have; who am not your obedient humble servant, but your grateful and unalterably attached friend, G. HARDINGE." "MY DEAR SIR, [Undated.] "It will not be in our power to wait upon you to-morrow, nor till Monday next, or any day after it that you should prefer. Pray do Mrs. Hardinge the justice to believe that she cannot be happier than in your company. To deserve you a little, she is cultivating her talent, and is drawing at your cabinet. If she can lie at the feet of your Aylesburys, Beauclercs, &c. her ambition will take no higher flight. Adieu. G. HARDINGE." [Undated.] "I shall be very glad of your company at dinner on Wednesday, dear Sir; but for the key of the Park, I do not believe it is to be obtained. The Duke, I think, gives none, at least I remember hearing a great deal that I forget about it when he was in England; and, I dare to say, Mrs. Keppel nor any one here has power to give a key; but I will inquire. I am happy to hear Mrs. Hardinge is better; and, if she is at Twickenham, I shall be glad of the honour of her company too. H. WALPOLE." "DEAR SIR, March.., 1784. "I send you an etching, done by Bretherton, from a curious drawing which I picked up two or three years ago, prefixed to a very old manuscript of a treatise by Sir John Fortescue, Chancellor of Henry the Sixth. A very learned, enlightened, and good man (as this Chancellor unquestionably was) deserves your favourable notice, let his exterior be ever so quaint. At least I may take refuge in the trembling humility of Heming and Condel, when putting forth under my Lord Pembroke's auspices the doubtful fame of one William Shakespeare. They compare this man's works to 'cheese-milk, &c. offered by rude peasants to the lord of the village, who estimates the value, not by the present itself, but the heart that makes it.' I am one of those peasants when I intreat your acceptance of my affectionate and grateful acknowledgments (wrapt up in the official purse of my Lord Fortescue). I have alluded to the unaccountable diffidence of Shakespeare's friends in a Writer above all competition or pane gyrick. This reminds me of a passage in Hume, which imputes to Milton's age, and even to his party, an ignorance of his merit; and, for proof, observes, that Whitelock calls him Milton, a blind man.' If you never saw the passage in Whitelock to which this correct and impartial Historian refers, you will be astonished at the effrontery of such a reference. one "Believe me ever, my dear Sir, your most affectionate friend and servant, G. HARDINGE." * This drawing passed from Mr. Hardinge into Sir William Mosgrave's Collection of Portraits; and is now in that of Mr. Bindley, together with the etching by Bretherton. See Granger, vol. I. article "Fortescue." "March "March 23, 1784. "I am much obliged to you, dear Sir, for the very pretty Print you have sent me; but I cannot afford to hang it up, as it will be too great an acquisition to my volume of Portraits. I am very sorry you can give me no better an account of the original. I have had a very slight fit of gout this winter, but I have got a very bad cold, and so troublesome a cough, that I am in hopes the air of so charming a season will remove it; and I am come hither for a few days to try it in its purity, not but that I think it very possible that a cough may be only the wind rattling through The chinks that Time has made,' and I shall be persuaded so if it is not cured soon. very glad of Miss Beauclerc's marriage? Are not you H. WALPOLE." "MY DEAR SIR, Ragman's Castle, Saturday, Oct 16,1784. "As one is not immediately reminded of a Calf* by your conversation upon other subjects, I thought no more of your generous offer to me yesterday in a certain Gallery, than Lady Di thinks of my passion for her, though I am not cured of it by her want of taste. But the week is not over, and I am in time to be dull before Sunday. The fit, however, has no occasion to be quite so long. If you can at any time spare a Cow-calf, produced bonnement by your French beauties, and old enough to eat gras, remember me. C'est tout dire- no, it is not; for I have more business to do with your friendship. It is a message to the dear Lady Di. Be so good as abuse her in my name (whatever you may tell her in your own) for not liking me or Mrs. Hardinge. We have seen her once for a quarter of an hour (which flew like half a quarter of a minute) in our own Castle. A little after this tantalizing peep at her, we left the neighbourhood; but a long week is past since we left our card at her door, and that was the first moment after my return that we could wait upon her. Etiquette says, that we must now (to borrow a metaphor from our constant object the Thames) lye upon our oars; that we must go to her next, and for that purpose wait for a summons from her: else I would ask her to us, or invite ourselves to her, for Mrs. Hardinge and I are enchanted with her. Blanchard and Sheldon have just been visible two miles over our heads. It was a beautiful sight; and I do not care a bit for the ridicule of it, though nothing, to be sure, can be sillier.— Adieu ! G. HARDINGE." "MY DEAR SIR, Ragman's Castle, Tuesday [1784.] "I send you, with many thanks, your interesting Villars, whom I do not like the worse for you as a party concerned. As to your gossiping notes, I wish all my own books were so treated, if you were the gossiper. I am an old batchelor to-day, and will dine with you if you will give me a bed into the bargain, or insure my life between your Hill and my Castle. * See the "Literary Anecdotes," vol. VIII. p. 529. "I have "I have not your Calf after all. She is not of the little breed, and has no French blood in her veins. Ever yours, my dear friend, most affectionately and faithfully, G. HARDINGE." [Undated] "DEAR SIR, "I am now with Lady Di, who is ill from great distress by a misfortune relative to her family. If you could come hither for ten minutes, you would do a great act of charity, as you can perhaps give her some advice, which I cannot do. It is not a point of Law, but compassion; and yet I know not how to put her into a way of doing any good. I send you my own chaise, because it is ready; and it shall carry you back directly. You will oblige Lady Di extremely, as well as yours ever, H. WALPOLE." "MY DEAR FRIEND, Ragman's Castle, Sunday [1784.] "I am here upon a journey to Bath; and would fain have exchanged Strawberry Hill for my own desolate cottage, but I was afraid of intrusion. Pray let me know how you are, and promise that we shall be good friends when I return. I have been fighting at Norwich, in a cause of some difficulty and importance, against one of the late Solicitor Generals *, who deported himself in a manner so illiberal, that I could not, without injustice to the cause and my own personal honour, decline the painful task of setting a mark upon him. I was fortunate enough to carry the point, and ascribe the victory more to him than to myself. These are odious parts of our profession. But let us be Dunnings, and rise to nobler heights by nobler means; then shake off the public chain, and live a little to ourselves. But how long are we to enjoy that earthly heaven the interval between glory and the tomb! Lord Ashburton's epitaph shall tell us. Well may Sir Walter Raleigh call Death eloquent "Farewell. I overtook your nieces to-day, the Cynosures of the Talbot Inn, thanks to a peppering shower. G. HARDINGE." Strawberry Hill, May 24, 1785. "Mr. Walpole cannot help troubling Mr. Hardinge with a line on a distress he has had this morning. A company came to see his house, and said they came from Hampstead, and that Mr. Hardinge had spoken to him about them; which not having happened, Mr. Walpole did not know what to do. However, as they used Mr. Hardinge's name, Mr. Walpole (as another set was expected) offered them to come to-morrow, or to walk over the house now till the other company should come; but they did not chuse either. Mr. Hardinge knows Mr. Walpole is always desirous of obliging him; but he is so teazed with numerous applications, that he is forced to be as strict as possible; and was last year obliged to print his Rules, one of which he takes the liberty of sending to Mr. Hardinge, which may save him trouble too, as it will be an answer to those who may apply to him when he is not at leisure to write. Nor can Mr. Walpole admit any accidental company, when a day is engaged; nor can the housekeeper show the house but by a written ticket." * In this important office there was about this time a rapid succession. JACOB JACOB BRYANT*, Esq. to GEORGE HARDINGE, Esq. "DEAR SIR, Windsor, Jan. 6, 1784. "It would give me great satisfaction if I could comply with your wishes, and with the request of your friend. But I am so much indisposed, and debilitated, that I have not spirits to engage in any foreign occupation. These two last years have lowered me very much, and I feel myself daily impaired. Give me leave likewise to privately hint to you, that what time I have for literary amusement, I employ in my own researches; in which I am pretty earnest, and zealous; and know not how to be called off, as I have not an opportunity always. If I am upon a voyage to the Indies, I know [not] how to be called away to Terra Incognita, or even to the Utopia of Sir Francis Bacon. "Several have honoured me with the like applications; and one gentleman in particular, when I last left town. But I was obliged to excuse myself for the same reasons as those which I have given. A large parcel of literature was sent me by a lady, but I was obliged to be obdurate. Accept of this my apology; and believe me to be, dear Sir, "Your affectionate humble servant, JACOB BRYANT." "DEAR SIR, Cypenham, Nov. 27, 1786. "I took your letter for a subpoena, and was consequently alarmed. Another time have some regard to your friends, and treat them more liberally; I mean, in respect to quantity rather than quality, though I might mention both. I remember my promise, and shall not fail you. I sent you two volumes, and a long letter, just as I left town, about the 4th of this month. I also ordered Mr. Cadell to have two volumes bound up for Lord Camden, and desired you would present them in my name. Of all this you send no intelligence ;—ne yev quidem. I am afraid I must turn you off again; or make your letters over. Adieu! JACOB BRYANT." Cypenham, July 10, 1788. "Yours for ever, "DEAR SIR, "Your loss is not past remedy; and whenever there is an opportunity afforded me, it shall be my business res lapsas restituere. But there is one drawback which may make it a work of time; for I have had a similar misfortune; and the old Dowager Annet is departed, after having nursed for about three weeks ten puppies. But it was too much for her, and she accordingly sunk under the severe task. Adieu! and believe me "Your affectionate and obliged QUINTUS CATULUS." "DEAR SIR, Cypenham, Nov. 15, 1788. "Your letter, short as it was, ought to have been answered sooner; but I have been so much out of order, that I could not muster up resolution to write. My illness still continues; and * See the "Literary Anecdotes," vol. VIII. p. 529. the the approach of winter seems very formidable. There was some cessation when I wrote last; but, had you visited Cypenham at the time you purposed, my indisposition was too great to have given me power to have afforded you any pleasure. Your avocation, therefore, was not unfortunate. I am, dear Sir, "Your affectionate humble servant, JACOB BRYANT." "DEAR SIR, Cypenham, June 27, 1791. "In consequence of your request, I have written to the Bishop of Exeter in favour of Mr. Collins*; and mentioned him as a person of learning and good sense, and the best principles both religious and civil. "You seem to have written to me upon the very day when I was at your house in Bedford-square; but of this I am not certain, as your letter has no reference to any place or date. "I am, dear Sir, most affectionately yours, JACOB BRYANT." Cypenham, Nov. 28, 1791. "DEAR SIR, "I have not the least objection to the proposal which you make; and will very readily contribute what you desire. It gave me pleasure to find that a great part of your letter was legible: and even some at the end that at first appeared entirely past human apprehension, yet, after the study of a day or two, afforded proper intelligence, with which I refreshed myself. You will have a vast advantage over other great personages, when you come to be either Chancellor or Minister. You may write your own dispatches; and not be beholden to any body for a cipher. Your correspondence will be perfectly a secret. None of the National Assembly will find it out. I do not mean those who do, or cannot, set their mark: but I mean the most learned and profound of the Attorneys, Apothecaries, Hair-dressers, Lamplighters, and others, of whom that august Assembly may consist. But, if the happy times should come of which I prophecy, I hope you will take care to have none of your dispatches sent back for your own perusal; for, after two or three days, you will not be able to read them yourself. I am, with true regard, "Yours, SCRIBONIUS, PENNATUS, CALAMINUS, ANSERINUS, &c. &c. ORTHOGRAPHUS." "MY DEAR SIR, Cypenham, Monday morning. "I hope you will not think it any diminution of friendship, or want of regard, if I do not accept of your kind offer. I am obliged to withdraw from company, both in town and country; and rest solitary and composed in the evening, otherwise I suffer for it in the night. I am advanced to a great age, and feel much debility; and my greatest misfortune is, that I am become very deaf, and cannot converse without much trouble. These things make me decline company, especially at the season above-mentioned: I am not adequate to it. Believe me to be still, dear Sir, your most affectionate friend and humble servant, JACOB BRYANT." * See the "Literary Anecdotes," vol. VIII. p. 533. "My |