LETTER LXIV.

Duke of Buckingham to the Duke of Shrewfbury; giving a Defcription of Buckingham-Houfe.

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OU accuse me of Singularity, in refigning the Privy-Seal, with a good Penfion added to it,. and yet afterwards, of ftaying in Town, at a Season when every body elfe leaves it, which you fay is at once both defpifing Court and Country; you defire me, therefore, to defend myself, if I can, by defcribing very particularly in what Manner I fpend fo many Hours, that appear fo long to you who know nothing of the Matter, and yet methinks are but too fhort for me.

No Part of this Tafk which you propofe is uneafy, except the Neceffity of using the fingular Number so often. That one Letter (I) is a moft dangerous Monofyllable, and gives an Air of Vanity to the modeftest Difcourfe whatsoever. But you will remember, that I write this only by way of Apology; and that, under Accufation, it is allowable to plead any thing for Defence, though a little tending to one's own Commendation.

To begin then, without more Preamble: I rife now in Summer about feven o'Clock, from a very large Bed-chamber (intirely quiet, high, and free from the early Sun) to walk in the Garden; or, if rainy, in a Saloon, filled with Pictures, fome good, but none difagreeable. There alfo, in a Row above them, I have fo many Portraits of famous Perfons in feveral kinds,.

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as are enough to excite Ambition in any Man lefs lazy, or lefs at eafe than myself.

Instead of a little dozing Closet (according to the unwholfome Cuftom of moft People) I chufe this fpacious Room for all my fmall Affairs, reading Books, or writing Letters, where I am never in the least tired, by the Help of stretching my Legs fometimes in fo long a Room, or of looking into the pleasantest Park in the World, juft underneath it.

Vifits, after a certain Hour, are not to be avoided; fome of which I own a little fatiguing (though, Thanks to the Town's Laziness, they come pretty late) if the Garden was not so near as to give a seasonable Refreshment between those ceremonious Interruptions. And I am more forry than my Coachman himself, if I am forced to go abroad any Part of the Morning: for though my Garden is fuch as, by not pretending to Rarities and Curiofities, has nothing in it to inveigle one's Thoughts; yet, by the Advantage of Situation and Profpect, it is able to suggest the nobleft that can be, in presenting at once to View a vaft Town, a Palace, and a magnificent Cathedral. I confefs the laft, with all its Splendor, has lefs Share in exciting my Devotion than the moft common Shrub in my Garden. For though I am apt to be fincerely devout in any fort of religious Affemblies, from the very best (that of our own Church) even to thofe of Turks, Jews, and Indians; yet the Works of Nature appear to me the better fort of Sermons; every Flower contains in it more edifying Rhetoric, to fill us with Admiration of its omnipotent Creator.

After I have dined (either agreeably with Friends, or, at worst, with better Company than

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your Country Neighbours) I drive away to a Place of Air, and Exercife, which fome Constitutions are in abfolute need of, and Diverfion of the Mind, being a Compofition for Health above all the Skill of Hippocrates.

The fmall Distance of this Place from London is juft enough for recovering my Weariness, and recruiting my Spirits, fo as to make me fitter than before I fet out for either Business or Pleafure. At the mentioning the laft of thefe, methinks I fee you smile; but I confefs myself so changed (which you maliciously will call decayed) as to my former enchanting Delights, that the Company I commonly find at home is agreeable enough to make me conclude the Evening on a delightful Terrace, or in a Place free from late Vifits, except of familiar Acquaintance.

By this you will fee, that most of my Time is conjugally spent at home, and consequently you will blame my Laziness more than ever, for not employing it in a way which your Partiality is wont to think me capable of, therefore I am obliged to go on with this trifling Description, as fome Excufe for my Idleness; but how fuch a Description of itself is excufable, is what I fhould be very much in Pain about, if I thought any body could fee it befides yourself, who are too good a Judge in all things, to mistake a Friend's Compliance in a private Letter for the leaft Touch of Vanity.

The Avenues to this House are along through St. James's Park, through Rows of goodly Elms on one Hand, and gay flourishing Limes on the other; that for Coaches, this for walking, with the Mall lying between them; this reaches to my Iron Pallifade, that encompaffes a fquare Court,

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which has in the midft a great Bafon, with Statues and Water-works; and from its Entrance rifes all the way imperceptibly, till we mount to a Terrace, in the Front of a large Hall, paved with fquare, white Stone, mixed with a darkcoloured Marble; the Walls of it covered with a Set of Pictures, done in the School of Raphael. Out of this, on the Right-hand, we go into a Parlour, thirty-three Feet by thirty-nine, with a Nitch fifteen Feet broad for a Buffet, paved with white Marble, and placed within an Arch, with Pilafters of divers Colours; the upper Part of which, as high as the Ceiling, is painted by Ricci.

From hence we pass through a Suit of large Rooms into a Bed-chamber of thirty-four Feet by twenty-feven; within it a large Closet, that opens into a Green-house.

On the Left-hand are three Stone Arches, fupported by Corinthian Pillars, under one of which are eight and forty Steps, ten Feet broad, each Step of one intire Portland Stone. Thefe Stairs, by the help of two Refting-places, are fo very eafy, there is no need of leading on the Iron Ballufter. The Walls are painted with the Story of Dido, whom, though the Poet was obliged to difpatch away mournfully, in order to make room for Lavinia, the better-natured Painter has brought no farther than to that fatal Cave, where the Lovers appear juft entering, and languifhing with Defire.

The Roof of this Stair-cafe, which is fifty-five Foot from the Ground, is of forty Feet by thirty-. fix, filled with the Figures of Gods and Goddefles; in which is uno condefcending to beg Affiftance from Venus to bring about a Marriage,

which the Fates intended should be the Ruin of her own darling Queen and People; by which. that fublime Poet wifely intimates, that we fhould never be over-eager for any thing either in our Purfuits, or in our Prayers, left what we endeavour to ask too violently for our Intereft, fhould be granted us by Providence, only in order to our Ruin.

The Bafs-reliefs, and little Squares above, are all Epifodical Paintings of the fame Story; and the Largenefs of the whole has admitted of a fure Remedy against any Decay of the Colours from Salt-Petre in the Wall, by making another of Oak Laths four Inches within it, and fo primed over like a Picture.

From a wide Landing-place on the Stairs-head, a great double Door opens into an Apartment of the fame Dimenfions with that below, only threeFeet higher, notwithstanding which, it would appear too low, if the higher Saloon had not: been divided from it. The firft Room on this Floor has within it a Clofet of original Paintings, which yet are not fo entertaining as the delightful Profpect from the Windows. Out of the fecond Room, a Pair of great Doors give Entrance into the Saloon, which is thirty-five Feet high, thirtyfix broad, and forty-five long. In the midst of its Roof, a round Picture of Gentilefchi, eighteen Feet in Diameter, reprefents the Mufes playing in Concert to Apollo, lying along on a Cloud to hear them. The reft of the Room is adorned with Paintings relating to Arts and Sciences; and underneath, divers original Pictures hang, all in good Lights, by the help of an upper Row of Windows, which drown the Glaring..