“Fulham, ye 1st Septembʳ, 1760.

“Madam,

“When I was a boy at Eton school, I remember it was a Principle of the Law Marshall (practised there): that he who gave the second blow was the beginner of the Fray; and there is something in it, if you consider it; however at this time, it will help to excuse me from the Presumption and folly of inviting you to a Combat, in which I can have no hopes of success. When I read on, and observe with what accuracy and finesse you trace the motions of the Heart, and call Nature from the inmost recess’s to discover plainly what arts is usually employ’d to conceal; I am confounded.

“It is true indeed that you have named the Passions and Qualifications of the person to be Described, but what Work will a man make, who should think that he had got all the Secrets; tho’ he was unacquainted or incapable to understand it, to such a man. Alexander the Great and Diogines (sic) are Characters alike, for they were both Actuated by the Spirit of Ambition, one who wanted a new World to display himself in, the other valued nothing beyond the Tub he lived in. In the midst of this Philosophical enquirey about the Passions, you very artfully turn to your Family Affairs and give (I doubt not) excellent directions to the Cook wᶜʰ shows you to be as great in the Kitchin as in the Closet, which indeed is the only way of being great in either.

“Nothing, I think, is more disagreeable than Learning in a Female, when the Mistress studys Newton, which perhaps she neither does nor ever will understand, to the absolute neglect of her Children and Servants. You conclude by putting in your claim for the Lady’s Privilege, which is a very extensive one; give me leave to tell you a short story.

“There was a poor Printer who had got a little sum of Money, by publishing the last words of a dying Criminal, and he grew so fond of last words, that after the Man had been long dead, he published another paper called MORE last words. Thus you see, Madam, that I have in spite of eighty-three, without a Voice, and with shaking Hands, endeavoured to follow your Strain of thought, which I shall always look upon to be a very good direction. My time of Life calls upon me to think of other Subjects, and the greatest of all to Justifie the ways of God to men. This theme can never wear out, it takes in the whole of God’s Dispensation, with respect to the Religion of the World, and shows by the connection in the several parts that the whole is the work of perfect Wisdom.

“But I am going to preach instead of Answering a short letter, you will pardon me for looking back upon my old profession, and believe me to be, with the greatest Sincerity,

“P.S.—Mrs. Sherlock and Mrs. Chester desire their respectfull compliments.”

“I call’d on Dr. Young at Welling and staid about two hours with him, he received me with great cordiality, and I think appears in better health than ever I saw him. His house is happily opposite to a church yard, which is to him a fine prospect; he has taught his imagination to sport with skulls like the grave-digger in Hamlet. He invited me to stay all night, and if my impatience to see you had not impell’d me on, I had been tempted to it. His conversation has always something in it very delightful; in the first place it is animated by the warmest benevolence, then his imagination soars above the material world, some people would say his conversation is not natural. I say it is natural of him to be unnatural, that is out of the ordinary course of things. It would be easier for him to give you a catalogue of the Stars than an inventory of the Household furniture he uses every day. The busy world may say what it pleases, but some men were made for speculation, metaphysical men, like jars and flower pots, make good furniture for a cabinet tho’ useless in the kitchen, the pantry and the Dairy.”

“It may be new to your Lordship tho’ not strange, that the Earl of Bath is fall’n desperately in love with one who seems not insensible of his passion, and I think ’tis time for you and I to look about us, for an Earl is better than a Baron or a quack Doctor ... it is impossible for me to tell your Lordship with what warmth he talk’d to me about her, and so now there are 3 fools of us. ‘She is the most extraordinary woman in the world’ with a nod of the head and a grave face, ‘she beats a french Duchess with an hard name all to pieces, upon my word, Doctor, she is——’ ‘Ay, so she is, my Lord, but neither I nor you know what.’ ‘Suppose we say angel.’ ‘No,’ says I, ‘Devil, for she leads us all into temptation.’”

“I wish Lady Hervey[289] mayn’t poison you for stealing Lord Bath from her, as for myself, I will not plead against him as my Rival that I am a younger man (for that plea you will not regard) but that I am an older friend. Adieu, inconstant woman, I feel horribly jealous, but if you won’t love me better, pray love me next to Lord Bath.”

“Sir,

“I arrived here last night and had the pleasure of finding Mr. Montagu very well. He went this morning to Gibside to attend Mr. Bowes’[290] funeral obsequies, which according to the custom of this county are to be very pompous. Lord Ravensworth, Sir Walter Blacket and all the gentlemen of Northumberland and the county of Durham are to be at it, and I fear it will be late at night before it is over, tho’ they are to set out about 4 from Gibside to go to the church. My cousin Rogers’ funeral we had order’d to be as private as decency would permit, as he had been so long dead to Society, but even that was attended by 38 gentlemen’s coaches, so I suppose a publick funeral must be three or four hundred. In the South people live with more pomp and dye with less. I hope not to outlive all my vanity, for I have seldom seen a good and never an agreeable character without it, but I think it should not survive one, and I should desire not to go to the grave with all this bustle, not that I should be afraid any one should say of my funeral, as Pope does of Sir John Cutler’s—

I love a blaze of wax lights and my friends about my living person very well, but the torches and the crowd about my dead body would give me neither light nor amusement. Sir Walter Blacket call’d here this morning, and said he hoped to ride in Hyde Park with you about the 15th of November. I had a very pleasant journey, for fine weather, like a good-humoured companion, makes ordinary scenes appear chearfull and pleasant, but from the time I left Hertfordshire till I got to Doncaster, the counties I pass’d through were dreary and barren, but if these prospects in the other counties were brown, these in Northumberland are bleak, the people in them a parcel of dirty Savages, so that I cannot say with the Psalmist that my lot is fallen in a fair ground, it is some comfort it is in a rich one, as I shall see its produce at Sir James Colebrooke’s in Threadneedle Street with great pleasure.... I met Sir Thomas Clavering just before I got to Darlington; he desired me to present his best respects to you and beg your vote and interest, he sets up for the county of Durham in the room of Mr. Bowes. Mr. Montagu gives him all his interest. If the Bishop of Durham should declare for Mr. Shaftoe (a very young man whose Father formerly served for Durham), Sir Thomas will be hard press’d. Lord Darlington will support Mr. Shaftoe, and most people imagine the Bishop of Durham will do so too. When applied to for Sir Thomas Clavering, he answered he should act as he found most agreeable to the majority of the county gentlemen. Now I imagine Bishops as well as women (both wear petticoats and a character of gentleness) command while seeming to submit, ‘and win their way by yielding to the tyde,’ and that my Lord Bishop in a mild way of suggestion will bring the gentlemen to that side he likes best, while he persuades them he follows their inclination. I must say his Lordship is much beloved from his liberality and affability, which are fine moral qualities, as to Xian graces, no doubt but he has them in a higher degree, so that as Prince Palatine or Bishop he must influence many. The Dean of Durham is strongly engaged to Sir Thomas, and there will be a sort of schism in the church.”

“As his vanity descends with his estate to his daughter, I don’t wish to see her my daughter-in-law, though she would make my son one of the richest and consequently, in our present ideas of greatness, one of the great peers of the Realm. But she will probably be the prize of some needy Duke, who will want her estate to repair the disasters of Newmarket and Arthur’s, or if she marries for love, of some ensign of the Guards, or smart Militia captain.”

“His house was the abode of Philosophical quiet and disinterested friendship. The scene about it was elegant, mild and beautifull Nature. The Hills on each side and the vale underneath it were covered with orchards, with Hop yards, with corn or fine grazing grounds thro’ which wound a river.... Now the Master is dead it is fall’n to the dullest of all dull Divines, one Stillingfleet, cousin to him you know, who has not taste enough to live there himself, but leaves it to a curate. He desires his compliments to Dr. Gregory, who was staying with the Montagus, and adds, ‘I am glad the Scotch like my Dialogues.’ He also desires if the Bishop of Ossory (Richard Pococke) is with them to send him on to Hagley, and assures Mrs. Montagu he is very well and grown quite plump. His thinness was a constant joke with his friends, who called him nothing but bones, and he contends if weighed in the balance with Lord Bath, he would be found ‘very wanting.’ The Devil take him for having so much witt with so much flesh. He commends his new house and his daughter, now living with him.”

“While I am writing I have your letter come in, which gives an account of my death, which is true, but save yourself the trouble of an epitaph for me or your funeral sermon, for I have really given my body away by will to a Surgeon at Cambridge, who is to make a skeleton of my bones for the use of students in Physic, so if you have begun your epitaph with ‘Here he’s interr’d, etc.,’ change it to ‘Here hang the bones, etc.,’ and convert your sermon into an Osteological Lecture.”

“I am actually an inhabitant of Newcastle, and am taking out my freedom, not out of a gold box, but by entering into all the diversions of the place. I was at a musical entertainment yesterday morning, at a concert last night, at a musical entertainment this morning. I have bespoken a play for to-morrow night, and shall go to a ball on choosing a Mayor on Monday night.”

“You tell me, good Madonna, that you are grown as robust as a milkmaid. If you are so, I have no objection to your going to Balls, Plays or Poppet Shows if you please every night; but you have sometimes the spirits of a milkmaid without the strength. However, I believe Diversions are better for you than too much reading, and therefore I am not sorry you have no time to committ excess with your books. If I were to live with you, I would not trust you in a Library or alone in your Room but at stated hours with proper Intervals of exercise and conversation.... I am glad to hear we shall have another volume of Highland Poems. To stay your stomach (for, as I know, your appetite is eager towards them), I send you a copy of four of a later date than the others now printed, and not much inferior to them in the Natural Beauty and Force of Description, tho’ not, I think, so bold and sublime. Being purely descriptive, they could have nothing dramatic or passionate in them as most of the others have. But at the end of these you will find some objections I have as a Chronologist and Historian to the authenticity of the printed ones which it will be hard to get over. Yet I am not persuaded myself they are not genuine, for who can write so now? Mr. Rust[291] was so struck with them, he read them every morning and evening aloud to the Family as a Chaplain does Prayers. And the more I consider them, the more I admire them. I have seen some specimens in a Latin translation of the Poetry of the two most admired Welsh Bards, but they don’t in any degree approach to the greatness and the Beauty of these. I am charmed with your comparison between the Greek Plays and Shakespear. He is indeed unequalled in the power of painting Nature as she is and giving you sometimes the utmost energy of a Character of a Passion in short Stroke and Dash of his Pen. I also agree with you that the moral Reflexions in Shakespear’s Plays are much more affecting by coming warm from the Heart of the interested persons, than putt into the mouth of a chorus, as in the Greek Plays. I am glad you like my favourite Philoctetes. The faults you find with the Ajax are perfectly just, yet I feel the grief of that hero when he returns to his Reason, and especially in the scene between him and Termessa. Suppose Belisarius had gone mad with the unjust Disgrace he had suffer’d, and in his Distraction had done actions which dishonoured and exposed him to the Ridicule of his enemies, what a fine subject would it be for a play if he had killed himself upon recovering the Use of Reason. Setting aside the poetical Fiction, Ajax is Belisarius, and Sophocles has painted the horrors of a great mind so overwhelmed and confounded with shame in a very masterly manner.... I am glad your three Dialogues are well liked in Scotland, where the Author is not known. Those who know you and believe they are yours are hardly fair judges. Your form and manners would seduce Apollo himself in his throne of criticism on Parnassus itself....”

“There is Envy and Malice enough against Beauty alone, but Beauty, Wit, Wisdom, Learning and Virtue united (to say nothing about Wealth) are sure to excite a Legion of Devils against the Possessor. It is amazing to me that with all these dangerous things about you you have not been driven out of Society a great while ago.”

“That I might not offend here I enter’d into all the diversions of this town, visits, concerts, plays, and balls. The desire of pleasure and love of dissipation rages here as much as in London. Diversions here are less elegant and conversation less polite, but no one imagines retirement has any comforts, so that in a little while if one would enjoy retired leisure one must dwell amidst inaccessible mountains and unnavigable rivers.”

“Such a low-bred, narrow-spirited woman would disgrace an episcopal house.... Mr. Palgrave spent two days here last week, and brought us some new Erse poems which Lord Lyttelton sent you a few days since. His strange figure and awkward silent behaviour did not recommend him greatly to the inhabitants of Hagley, or do much honour to my nephew’s taste in his friendships.”

“The suddenness of his Death made people call it an apoplexy, but I conclude otherwise from it. An apoplexy, except when a vessel breaks in the brain, is not so very rapid. People live four or six days or more, that is, they breathe and have a pulse. The King died in an instant, and from some strange odd faintnesses and oppressions upon his breath, I was almost sure ’twas in his heart or the great vessels near. And upon opening him, the Aorta, the canal which receives the Blood directly, was found burst (a very uncommon case), the Duke of Leeds says. I have known and seen it thickened, cartilaginous (crusty), and ossified, but I never met with a broken one; however, ’tis a species of Death he wished for, sudden, and nothing could be more so than this, for the instant that vessel breaks, the heart stops for ever and for ever....

“The King[293] had a levee to-day at one o’clock at Leicester House, and the Duke of Leeds, who with Mr. Godolphin dined with us to-day, says he so designs every day. No women are to appear at Court yet, so you may finish your affairs without being in a hurry. The Court goes into mourning on Sunday next ’tis said, and about a month hence the King is to be buried.”

“Madonna,

“The sudden death of the King will make me leave this place to-morrow, a week sooner than I had intended, and I propose to be in town on Tuesday or Wednesday. This is only to notify you, as I have not a moment to spare. I suppose all things will go on as they did for some time in the Court and the Nation. Certainly it is no season for any great changes. As to my own situation, I doubt not it will be as it is. The Dean received an admirable letter from you last Post. I have read it over and over with infinite pleasure. Come well to London, and let all the world go as it will. Adieu, you shall hear from me again as soon as I have seen my friends in Town, and can tell you any news. I am perfectly well, and am, Madam,

“My respectfull compliments to Mr. Montagu.”

“Newcastle, ye 31st October, 1760.

“My Lord,

“It would be perfect sacrilege and robbing the mighty dead of his due rites, if one began one’s letter with any subject but the loss of our sovereign; on which I condole with your Lordship, in whom the virtue of Patriotism, and the antequated one of Loyalty still remain. I know you had that veneration for our late King which the justice and prudence of his government so well deserved. With him our laws and liberties were safe; he possessed in a great degree the confidence of his people and the respect of foreign governments; and a certain steadiness of character made him of great consequence in these unsettled times. During his long reign we never were subject to the insolence and rapaciousness of favourites, a grievance of all others most intolerable when persons born only one’s equals shall by the basest means perhaps possess themselves of all the strength of sovereign power, and keep their fellow subjects in a dependance on illegal authority, which insults while it subjects, and is more grievous to the spirits than even to the fortunes of free-born men. If we consider only the evils we have avoided during his late Majesty’s reign, we shall find abundant matter of gratitude towards him and respect for his memory. His character would not afford subject for Epic poetry, but will look well in the sober page of history. Conscious, perhaps, of this, he was too little regardful of sciences and the fine arts; he considered common sense as his best panegyrist. The monarch whose qualities are brilliant enough to entitle him to glory, cultivates the love of the Muses, and their handmaid arts, painting, sculpture, etc., sensible that they will blazon and adorn his fame. I hope our young Monarch will copy his predecessor’s solid virtues, and if he endeavours to make them more brilliant by the help of poetry, eloquence, etc., etc., the happiness and glory of Britain will be great. His present Majesty’s religious disposition, and decent moral conduct, give us hope we shall not be plunged into riot, and lost in debauchery and libertinism, which, if it were to take place at Court, would soon affect a rich and luxurious nation, and the profaneness and immorality of Charles the Second’s days would, from the more prosperous state of our nation at present, be outdone....

“I will now thank your Lordship for your letter and the Highland compositions. Your remarks go far in staggering my faith as to their authenticity. I think they convince me the poems cannot be as ancient as pretended. It seems to me possible, that some great bard might from uncertain and broken tradition, and from the scattered songs of former bards, form an epic poem, which might not agree with history. The pillars in the hall of Fingal struck me at first reading; but I imagined they might not refer to polished marble pillars, but to smooth lime or beech trees which one may suppose to have been used as supporters in very rude buildings, and which would look smooth and shapely to one not used to polished marble; and I imagine convenience taught the use of such supporters long before they were introduced as ornaments.... I hear Lord Marchmont says our old Highland bard is a modern gentleman of his acquaintance; if it is so, we have a living Poet who may dispute the pas on Parnassus with Pindar and the greatest of the ancients, and I honour him for carrying the Muses into the country and letting them step majestic over hills, mountains and rivers instead of tamely walking in the Park or Piccadilly.... The Bishop of Ossory tells me Mr. Macpherson receives an £100 per annum subscription while he stays in the Highlands to translate the poems; if he is writing them, he should have a thousand at least....

“Dr. Gregory, in talking of Mr. Hume, said he had a great respect for your Lordship. The Dialogue of Bayle and Locke could not be agreeable to him.... Dr. Gregory says Mr. Hume told him he spent an evening with me at Mr. Ramsay’s, and he had received very favourable impressions of me, and, I find, said much more of me than I deserve. The Doctor told him I was not of his freethinking system, but Mr. Hume thinks that no fault in a woman.... Dr. Monsey is revenging my coquetry with Lord Bath by an assiduous courtship of Miss Talbot, but he can no more be untrue to me than the needle to the pole!”

“Madonna,

“According to my promise, I now write to tell you the news of the town; and it is with great pleasure that I can assure you all parties unite in the strongest expressions of zeal and affection for our young King, and approbation of his behaviour. Since his accession he has shown the most obliging kindness to all the royal family, and done everything that was necessary to give his government quiet and unanimity in this difficult crisis.... There will be no changes in the ministry, and I believe few at Court. The Duke of Newcastle hesitated some time whether he should undertake his arduous office in a new reign, but has yielded at last to the earnest Desires of the King himself, of the Duke of Cumberland, and of the heads of all Parties and Factions, even those who were formerly most hostile to him. His friend and mine, Lord Hardwicke, has been most graciously talked to by the King in two or three audiences, and will, I doubt not, continue in the Cabinet Council with the weight and influence he ought to have there.... Lord George Sackville has been admitted to kiss the king’s hand, and thus ends my gazette extraordinary. As for myself, I got well to town on Wednesday night, was at Court on Thursday morning, was spoken graciously to by the King, and am told by everybody that I grow fat.” He then urges Mrs. Montagu to return from Northumberland at once. “I have often told you that you are a mere hot-house plant, fine and rare, but incapable of enduring the cold of our climate, if you are not housed the first day that the white frosts come in.

“I found Mrs. Pitt in pretty good health and spirits; she is well-housed, though she has left your palace in Hill Street.”

“The King has opened his grandfather’s Will in presence of all the royal family, and it is said the Duke of Cumberland is heir to the much greater part of what his Majesty had to dispose of, but that is much less than was supposed. The next best share is the Princess Emilia’s.[295] The sums are not mentioned. Mr. Pitt has just had a new and very extraordinary mark of the affection of the city, in an inscription they have put upon the first stone of the new bridge. I would have sent it you with to-day’s paper in which it is printed, but somebody has stolen it out of my room. You will see it in the next Chronicle. It speaks of a certain contagion by which Generals, Admirals, Armies and Fleets catch valour and prudence from him, to the great benefit of our affairs.”

“If I were to write the History of my own Times, I would transcribe into it your character of the late King, and should thereby pay my Debt of gratitude to his memory. I would only add to it that it appears from several Wills he has left, that he never had been such a Hoarder of Treasure as was generally supposed. And of what he had saved this war has consumed so much that he was able to leave no more to his three children than thirty thousand pounds in equal proportions, and I have heard that the Duke has given up his to his sisters. Princess Emily is come to live in my brother’s House like a private woman. It is said the Princess of Wales will not come to St. James’s. The great court offices are not yet settled, but I believe it is certain that Lord Bute[296] will be continued Groom of the Stole, and Lord Huntingdon[297] Master of the Horse.”

“I presume he will go to some Indian Nabob or Rajah, and then you may have the pleasure of tracing his marches on the banks of the Ganges, and over many regions where the Gorgeous East showers on her Kings Barbaric Pearls and Gold; and if he is successful, large tribute of those pearls and gold will come to you.”

“My Dearest,

“I got here very safe to-night, but the journey from Ferrybridge has been very unpleasant, from the great depth of the waters. Our coach is fortunately hung very high, all the people who passed Newark to-day got a great deal of water into their carriage, but I had very little. The waters were impassable till this morning, and it is now raining hard, so I had good fortune to get thro’ in the short interval; some of the water near Barnby Moor was as deep as at Newark, and tho’ this is only a long day’s journey, I have got out every day as soon as it was light; the horses perform admirably. I shall get to Stilton to-morrow, and, I hope, get you some cheese.”

“Do not figure to yourself that I sit like Aurora in her car drawn by the rosy-bosom’d hours, les jeux et les ris, but imagine Dobbin and Whitenose and their 4 companions all mire and dirt, dragging me through deep water, over huge stones, the winds blowing, the clouds low’ring and rain darkening the windows of the coach.”

“Lord Panmure pass’d me on the road yesterday, and I hear all the Scotch are gone to town from Peers to Pedlars, and I suppose all with the same intention to sell something and to get money. I found that a Scotch countess had bought all the black cloth, crapes and bombazeen, black ribbons, and fans at Darlington before the poor shopkeepers knew of the King’s death. She bought a great many suits of broad cloth and crape, which must be with an intention to sell them at a higher price in town, but surely nothing could be more mean than to enter into such a traffick and take advantage of the Shopkeepers’ ignorance, and it seems to me not honest. This lady is wife to Lord C——t; I believe I mistook when I called her a countess. The town was soon inform’d of the reason she had bought such a quantity of mourning, and I wonder she was not mobbed. The ladies at Darlington and in the neighbourhood are very angry, for she left but two yards of crape in the whole town.”

“I no sooner heard of the loss of our good old King than I thought with regret of our friend Mrs. Pitt. I believe it has prevented her coming to this place, where I proposed much pleasure in meeting her. I hear the G—t minister’s friends, the mob, have posted upon all the Palaces—

‘A Pittical administration,—no Sc—tch influence;’

and on the Royal Exchange—

‘No petticoat administration, no Lord G. S—k—lle[299]
at Court.’”

“The young King spoke his speech[300] with great grace; his voice, they say, is very fine, and his delivery most remarkably good. The Princess Dowager is not to be at St. James’s, and people think she looks chagrin’d; no doubt she had visions of power and authority which will probably not be answered; all people seem glad that she is not likely to have influence. Dr. Wilson made a very flattering sermon at Court, upon which the King express’d great displeasure, and order’d all the Chaplains should be told he did not come to Church to hear himself praised. Lord Egremont[301] made a fine speech in the House of Lords for the address. Lord Royston is to move for the address in the House of Commons to-day, and Sir Richard Grosvenor,[302] who is to be made a peer, it is said, seconds him. Mr. Pratt[303] is to be made Lord Chief Justice in room of Willes, whose son is to be Solicitor-General, and Mr. York attorney. Some say Pratt is to be made a Peer. There seems a very strong union between Pitt and the Duke of Newcastle, but as yet no one knows how things will combine. The whole Cocoa Tree[304] and every human creature has been at Court, and this being said one day in a large company, I was ask’d when I should go. I said not till you came to town, but when you did you intended I should be presented. Mrs. Boscawen said she suppos’d I should be introduced by Lady Bute, as we were relations, and visited; I answered no, for I should not go as a courtier....

“I should ask Lady Cardigan to carry me, who was the head of the Montagu family, and a person who went as a great independant lady to pay her duty to her sovereign without being a courtier. It seems if I am to go to Court, I must not appear anywhere till I have kiss’d hands, which makes it necessary, if done, to be done soon, but I shall wait your orders, and I beg you to speak freely.”

“The distance j am now at from you, unhappily hinders me from discussing an affair of this moment with you and consulting with myne or your friends. At present j can only say that if you mean nothing more than paying your duty to our new sovereign j see no harm in it, and j think Lady Cardigan of all others the properest person to introduce you; but if you go further, before you give your attendance at a Court, j wish you would take the consequences into your most serious thoughts. The principal reason of my absenting myself ever since j was Member of Parliament was that j did not concur in the measures that were then taking, and the Principal members in the opposition thought they had no business at St. James, and j believe neither the wifes of the Peers nor of the Members of the House of Commons were found there. If j should be still so unhappy as out of dislike for the present measures not to alter my way of acting, and not to appear at Court, would it be proper for you to be attendant? Indeed, it seems to me that it would not, but if you can make out the contrary upon any sound Principles of reason j will readily submit. I have for many years liv’d in a state of Independancy though j may truly call it of Proscription, so far as those could make it to those who thought not, and acted not with them where politics they thought endanger’d the Liberties and good of their country, am j to alter now, or maintain the same conduct j hitherto have done? Whilst j flatter’d myself that we were in the same way of thinking, and that my conduct met with your approbation, j did hardly suffer anything. I then thought and still reflect with the utmost sense of gratitude on the sacrifice you made me in your early bloom, by giving up all the pleasures and gaieties of a Court, and it was the greater because you had all the advantages of beauty and sense to shine and make a figure there. I think that capacity is not so far gone as you in your modesty are pleas’d to say, and j may add in some sense perhaps improv’d, either at a Court or anywhere else j wish you every thing that is good that you may long enjoy that good will and esteem which your merit has acquir’d you, and leave the rest to your own candid and impartial consideration.”