intention I am sure I do not pretend to have conceived; nor, indeed, can I venture to affirm that I had any intention at all but to amuse myself - no, not even a plan, till some pages were written). You, Sir, have realized his idea, and yet I believe the Bishop would be surprised to see how well you have succeeded. One cannot be quite ashamed of one's follies, if genius condescends to adopt, and put them to a sensible use. Miss Aikin flattered me even by stooping to tread in my eccentric steps. Her "Fragment," though but a specimen, showed her talent for imprinting terror. I cannot compliment the author of the "Old English Baron," professedly written in imitation, but as a corrective of The Castle of Otranto. It was totally void of imagination and interest; had scarce any incidents; and, though it condemned the marvellous, admitted a ghost. I suppose the author thought a tame ghost might come within the laws of probability. You alone, Sir, have kept within nature, and made superstition supply the place of phenomenon, yet acting as the agent of divine justice a beautiful use of bigotry. I was mistaken in thinking the end of the first act deficient. The leaves stuck together, and, there intervening two or three blank pages between the first and second acts, I examined no farther, but concluded the former imperfect, which on the second reading I found it was not. I imagine, Sir, that the theatres of Dublin cannot have fewer good performers than those of London; may I ask why you prefer ours? Your own directions and instructions would be of great advantage to your play; especially if you suspect antitragic prejudices in the managers. You, too, would be the best judge at the rehearsal of what might be improvements. Managers will take liberties, and often curtail necessary speeches, so as to produce nonsense. Methinks it is unkind to send a child, of which you have so much reason to be proud, to a Foundling Hospital. mean is The Castle of Otranto. The scene is laid in Gothic chivalry; where a beautiful imagination, supported by strength of judgment, has enabled the author to go beyond his subject, and effect the full purpose of the ancient tragedy; that is, to purge the passions by pity and terror, in colouring as great and harmonious as in any of the best dramatic writers."-E. TO THE REV. MR. COLE. Berkeley Square, Feb. 5, 1780. I HAVE been turning over the new second volume of the Biographia, and find the additions very poor and lean performances. The lives entirely new are partial and flattering, being contributions of the friends of those whose lives are recorded. This publication made at a time when I have lived to see several of my contemporaries deposited in this national temple of fame has made me smile, and reflect that many preceding authors, who have been installed there with much respect, may have been as trifling personages as those we have known and now behold consecrated to memory. Three or four have struck me particularly, as Dr. Birch,1 who was a worthy, good-natured soul, full of industry and activity, and running about like a young setting-dog in quest of anything, new or old, and with no parts, taste, or judg ment. Then there is Dr. Blackwell, the most impertinent literary coxcomb upon earth—but the editor has been so just as to insert a very merited satire on his Court of Augustus. The third is Dr. Brown, that mountebank, who for a little time made as much noise by his Estimate, as ever quack did by a nostrum. I do not know if I ever told you how much I was struck the only time I ever saw him. You know one object, and the anathemas of his Estimate was the Italian Opera; yet did I find him one evening, in Passion Week, accompanying some of the Italian singers, at a concert at Lady Carlisle's. A clergyman, no doubt, is not obliged to be on his knees the whole week before Easter, and music and a concert are harmless amusements; but when Cato or Calvin are out of character, reformation becomes ridiculous 1 See vol. ii. p. 58.-E. 2 Dr. Thomas Blackwell, principal of the Marischal College in Aberdeen. Besides the above work, he wrote "An Enquiry into the Life and Writings of Homer," and "Letters concerning Mythology." He died in 1757. - but poor Dr. Brown was mad,1 and therefore might be in earnest, whether he played the fool or the reformer. You recollect, perhaps, the threat of Dr. Kippis to me, which is to be executed on my father, for my calling the first edition of the Biographia the Vindicatio Britannica but observe how truth emerges at last! In his new volume he confesses that the article of Lord Arlington, which I had specified as one of the most censurable, is the one most deserving that censure, and that the character of Lord Arlington is "palliated beyond all truth and reason"— words stronger than mine yet mine deserved to draw vengeance on my father! so a Presbyterian divine inverts divine judgment, and visits the sins of the children on the parents! Cardinal Beaton's character, softened in the first edition, gentle Dr. Kippis pronounces "extremely detestable"-yet was I to blame for hinting such defects in that work! — and yet my words are quoted to show that Lord Orrery's poetry was ridiculously bad. In like manner, Mr. Cumberland, who assumes the whole honour of publishing his grandfather's Lucan, and does not deign to mention its being published at Strawberry-hill, (though by the way I believe it will be oftener purchased for having been printed there, than for wearing Mr. Cumberland's name to the dedication,) and yet he quotes me for having praised his ancestor in one of my publications. These little instances of pride and spleen divert me, and then make me reflect sadly on human weaknesses. I am very apt myself to like what flatters my opinions or passions, and to reject scornfully what thwarts them, even in the same persons. The more one lives, the more one discovers one's uglinesses in the features of others! Adieu ! dear Sir: I hope you do not suffer by this severe season. P. S. I remember two other instances, where my impartiality, or at least my sincerity, have exposed me to double censure. You perhaps condemned my severity on Charles the First; yet the late Mr. Hollis wrote against me in the newspapers, for condemning the republicans for their destruc In September 1766, he destroyed himself in a fit of insanity. See vol. iii. p. 90.-E. tion of ancient monuments. Some blamed me for undervaluing the Flemish and Dutch pictures in my preface to the Edes Walpolianæ. Barry the painter, because I laughed at his extravagances, says, in his rejection of that school," But I leave them to be admired by the Hon. Horace Walpole, and such judges." Would not one think I had been their champion! TO THE REV. MR. COLE. Berkeley Square, Feb. 27, 1780. UNAPT as you are to inquire after news, dear Sir, you wish to have Admiral Rodney's victory confirmed. I can now assure you, that he has had a considerable advantage, and took at least four Spanish men-of-war, and an admiral, who they say is since dead of his wounds. We must be glad of these deplorable successes - but I heartily wish we had no longer occasion to hope for the destruction of any of our speciesbut, alas! it looks as if devastation would still open new fields of blood! The prospect darkens even at home — but, however you and I may differ in our political principles, it would be happy if everybody would pursue theirs with as little rancour. How seldom does it happen in political contests, that any side can count anything but its wounds! your habitudes seclude you from meddling in our divisions; so do my age and my illnesses me. Sixty-two is not a season for bustling among young partisans. Indeed, if the times grow perfectly serious, I shall not wish to reach sixty-three. Even a superannuated spectator is then a miserable being; for though insensibility is one of the softenings of old age, neither one's feelings nor enjoyments can be accompanied with tranquillity. We veterans must hide ourselves in inglorious se Admiral Sir George Rodney, who had been dispatched to the relief of Gibraltar, the garrison of which was much distressed for provisions, after taking a convoy of Spanish ships bound to the Caraccas, fell in, on the 16th of February, off Cape St. Vincent, with the Spanish fleet, commanded by Don Juan Langara, which he defeated, and captured four sail of the line.-E. curity, and lament what we cannot prevent; nor shall be listened to, till misfortunes have brought the actors to their senses; and then it will be too late, or they will calm themselves faster than we could preach—but I hope, the experience of the last century will have some operation and check our animosities. Surely, too, we shall recollect the ruin a civil war would bring on, when accompanied by such collaterals as French and Spanish wars. Providence alone can steer us amidst all these rocks. I shall watch the interposition of its ægis with anxiety and humility. It saved us this last summer, and nothing else I am sure did; but often the mutual follies of enemies are the instruments of Heaven. If it pleases not to inspire wisdom, I shall be content if it extricates us by the reciprocal blunders and oversights of all parties of which, at least, we ought never to despair. It is almost my systematic belief, that as cunning and penetration are seldom exerted for good ends, it is the absurdity of mankind that often acts as a succedaneum, and carries on and maintains the equilibrium that Heaven designed should subsist. Adieu, dear Sir! Shall we live to lay down our heads. in peace? Yours ever. 28th.-A second volume of Sir George Rodney's exploits is arrived to-day. I do not know the authentic circumstances, for I have not been abroad yet, but they say he has taken four more Spanish ships of the line and five frigates; of the former, one of ninety guns. Spain was sick of the war beforehow fortunate if she would renounce it! I have just got a new History of Leicester, in six small volumes. It seems to be superficial; but the author is young and talks modestly; which, if it will not serve instead of merit, makes one at least hope he will improve, and not grow insolent on age and more knowledge. I have also received from Paris a copy of an illumination from La Cité des Dames of Christina of Pisa, in the French King's library. There is her own portrait with three allegoric figures. I have learnt much more about her, and of her amour with an English peer; but I have not time to say more at present. 1 1 John Montacute, Earl of Salisbury; who, arriving in Paris, as am |
