wig had never fuffered this criticifm, but on the fcore
of your head, and the two fine eyes that are in it.
For God's lake, Madam, when you write to me,
talk of yourfelf, there is nothing I fo much defire to
hear of : talk a great deal of yourfelf, that me who I
always thought talked bed, may fpeak upon the beft
fubjecl:. The flirines and reliques you tell me of, no
way engage my curiofity^ I had ten times rather go
on pilgrimage to fee your face, than St. John Baptifl's
head : I wifh you had not only all thofe fine ftatues
you talk of, but even the golden image which Nebu-
chadnezzar fet up, provided you were to travel no
further than you could carry it.
3 The
384 LETTERS TO
The court of Vienna is really very edifying : the
ladies, with refpeft to their hufoands, feem to under-
ftand that text very literally, that commands us to
bear one another's burthens : but I fancy many a man
there is, like Ifiachar, an afs between two burthens.
I mall look upon you no longer as a Chriftian, when
you pafs from that charitable court to the land of
jealoufy, where the unhappy women converfe with
none but eunuchs, and where the very cucumbers are
brought to them cut. I expect to hear an exact ac-
count how, and at what places, you leave one article
of ' faith after another, as you approach nearer to
Turkey. Pray how far are you gone already ?
Amidft the charms of high-mafs, and the ravifhing
trills of a Sunday-opera, what think you of the doc-
trine and difcipline of the church of England ? have
you from your heart a reverence for Sternhold and
Hopkins ? How do your chriftian virtues hold out
m fo long a voyage ? You have already (without
pafling the bounds of Chriftendom) out-travelled the
fin of fornication, and are happily arrived at the free
region of adultery : in a little time you'll look upon
fome other fins, with more impartiality than the ladies
here are capable of. I reckon you'll time it fo well
as to make your faith ferve out juft to the laft verge
of Chriftendom ; that you may diicharge your chap-
tain (as humanity requires) in a place where he may
find fome bufmefs, and not be out of the way of all
trade.
I doubt
LADY M. W. MONTAGUE. 385
I doubt not but I mall be told (when I come to
follow you through thofe countries) in how pretty a
manner you accommodated yourfelf to the cuftoms of
the true believers. At this town, they will fay, me
praclifed to fit on the fofa ; at that village me learnt
to fold the turban ; here me was bathed and anointed;
and there me parted with her black full-bottom : at
every chriftian virtue you loft, and at every chriflian
habit you quitted, it will be decent for me to fetch a
holy figh ; but (till I fhall proceed to follow you.
How happy will it be, for a gay young woman, to
live in a country where it is a part of religious wor-
fhip to be giddy-headed ! I mail hear at Belgrade,
how the good bafiia received the fair convert with
tears of joy ; how he was charmed with her pretty
manner of pronouncing the words Allah and Mu-
hammed ; and how earneftly you joined with him in
exhorting Mr. Wortley to be circumcifed j but he
fatisfies you by demonftrating, how, in that condition,
he could not properly reprefent his Britannic majefty.
Laftly, I mail hear, how, the very firft night you lay
at Pera, you had a vifion of Mahomet's paradife, and
happily awaked without a foul ; from which blefled
inftant, the beautiful body was left to perform all the
agreeable functions it was made for. But if my fate
be fuch, that this body of mine (which is as ill matched
to my mind as any wife to her hufband) be left be-
hind in the journey, let the epitaph of Tibuilus be
fet over it :
VOL. vin. c c Hie
386 LETTERS TO
Hie jacet immiti confumptus morte Tibullus,
Meflalam, terra, dum fequiturque, man.
Here, ftopt by hafty death, Alexis lies,
Who croft half Europe, led by "Wortley's eyes.
I mall at leaft be fure to meet you in the next world,
if there be any truth in our new doctrine of the day
of judgment. Since your body is fo full of fire, and
capable of fuch folar motions as your letter defcribes,
your foul can never be long going to the fixed ftars,
where I intend to fettle ; or elfe you may find me in
the milky way ; becaufe Fontenelle ami res us, the
ftars are fo crowded there, that a man may (land
upon one and talk to his friend on another. From
thence, with a good telefcope, what do you think
one mould take fuch a place as this world for ? I
fancy, for the devil's rookery, where the inhabitants
are ready to deafen and deftroy one another with
eternal noife and hunger.
I fee I have done in this letter, as I have often done
in your converfation, talked myfelf into a good hu-
mour, though I begun in an ill one : the mere plea-
fure of addreffing you makes me run on, and it is in
your own power to fhorten this letter by giving over
where you pleafe, fo I'll make it no longer by apo-
logies.
The rapidity of your journies is what I have been
imitating, though in a lefs fphere : I have been at
York and at Bath in lefs than a fortnight ; all that
time, your letter (for which you have a thoufand
thanks
LADY M. W. MONTAGUE. 387
thanks from me) lay in London ; I had juft before
fent one by Mr. Stanyan, giving another for loft that
went by Lord James Hay to Leghorn, where you was
then expefted. Mr. Congreve had written fome time
before, as I acquainted you in that, who, I afiure you,
no way deferves to be thought forgetful of you. I
obey your orders, in fending inclofed two little pieces;
the printed one has made much noife, and done fome
good at court : I am wrongfully fufpected to.be the
author of it. They talk of fome alterations there,
which affect a man who never afked for any thing
but your Paftorals. Lady Rich is brought to bed.
I can only add my defire of being always thought
yours, and of being told I am thought fo by yourfelf,
whenever you would make me as happy as I can be
at this diftance.
Your, etc.
Mr. Craggs is very much yours.
I am juft now told you are to go by way of Italy :
I hope to God this is true, and that you will ftay this
winter, to refrem yourfelf for new travels, at Vienna.
The feas will fliew no refpeft to merit or beauty, in
the winter feafon. To give you a convincing proof
how romantic I am, if you pafs through Italy next
fpring, and will give me timely notice and direction,
it is very poffible I may meet you there, and attend
you till you take fea again for Constantinople.
c c 2
388 LETTERS TO
LETTER VI.
TO THE SAME.
Madam, February 3.
T WISH I could write any thing to divert you,
but it is impoflible in the unquiet ftate I am put
into by your letter : it has grievoufly afflicted me,
without affectation ; and I think you would hardly
have writ it in fo ftrong terms, had you known to
what a degree I feel the lofs of thofe I value (it is only
decency that hinders me from faying, of her I value).
From this inftant you are doubly dead to me ; and
all the vexation and concern I endured at your part-
ing from England, was nothing to what I fuffer the
moment I hear you have left Vienna. Till now, I
had fome fmall hopes in God, and in fortune; I
waited for accidents, and had at lead the faint com-
fort of a wifh, when I thought of you ; I am now
I can't tell what I won't tell what, for it would
grieve you. This letter is a piece of madnefs that
throws me after you in a diftrafted manner. I
don't know which way to write, which way to fend
it, or if ever it will reach your hands : if it does, what
can you infer from it, but what I am half afraid and
half willing you mould know, how very much I was
yours, how unfortunately well I knew you, and with
what a miferable conftancy I fhall ever remember
you?
If
LADY M. W. MONTAGUE. 389
If this falls into any other hands, it will fay nothing
I fhall be afhamed to own, when either diftance
or death (for ought I can tell) fliall have removed
you for ever from the fcandal of fo mean an admirer.
What you fay of your illnefs frightens me with a
profpecl I can never fo much as dream of without
horror. Though I am never to fee you again, may
you live to pleafe other eyes, and improve other
minds than mine j may you appear to diftant worlds
like a fun that is funk out of the fight of our hemi-
fphere, to gladden the other. It is no figure of fpeech
when I tell you, that thofe mountains of fnow, and
woods laid in afhes, you defcribe, are what I could
wifh to traverfe with you. I find I flattered myfelf
when I thought Italy had pleafures that could allure
me to have met you there ; I fee it was only the view
of meeting you that made that country appear charm-
ing to me ; and I now envy the defarts and devaft-
ations of Hungary more than any parts of the polite
world. It is ferioufly true that I have not, fince your
laft letter, the leaft inclination to fee Italy, though,
before I received it, I longed for your fummons thi-
ther : but it is foolifh to tell you this ; did I fay
foolifli ? it is a thoufand times worfe, it is in vain !
You touch me very fenfibly, in faying you think
fo well of my friend/hip ; in that you do me too much
honour. Would to God you would (even at this
diftance) allow me to correft this period, and change
thefe phrafes according to the real truth of my heart*
c c * I am
390 LETTERS TO
I am foolifli again ; and methinks I am imitating, in
my ravings, the dreams of fplenetic enthufiafts and
folitaires, who fall in love with faints, and fancy them-
felves in the favour of angels and fpirits, whom they
can never fee or touch. I hope indeed that you, like
one of thofe better beings, have a benevolence to-
wards me ; and I (on my part) really look up to
you with zeal and fervour, not without fome faint
expectation of meeting hereafter, which is fomething
betwixt piety and madnefs.
Madam, I beg you to be fo juft to my impatience
and anxiety for your fake, as to give me the firft no-
tice poflible of your health and progrefs. This letter
takes its chance from Mr. Stanhope's office : though
you direcl: me to the merchant-mips bound for Con-
ftantinople, I could not flay fo long as till one of thofe
fets out. Whether you receive letters from me or
not, you may depend upon my having writ, as the
confequence of my thinking fo often and fo warmly
of you. May Providence overfhadow you ; and that
virtue and fpirit which expofes you to dangers, pro-
tect you from them. I am the mofl earneft of your
well-wifhers, and, I was going to fay, your moft faith-
ful fervant, but am angry at the weaknefs of all the
terms I can ufe to exprefs myfelf
Yours,
LADY M. W. MONTAGUE. 391
LETTER VII.
T WRITE this after a very fevere illnefs, that had like
to have coft you a friend : and in writing I rebel
againfl a defpotic Doc~lor, whofe tyranny the greateft
here obey, and from the fame fervile principles that
moft men obey tyrants, the fear of death. He fays
I muft think but flightly of any thing : now I am
pra&ifmg if I can think fo of you, which if I can I
mail be above regarding any thing in nature for the
future : I may then look upon the fun as a fpangle,
and the world as a hazel-nut. But in earneft, you
mould be pleafed at my recovery, as it is a thing you'll
get fomething by. Heaven has renewed a leafe to
you of a fmcere fervant : abundance of good wiflies
and grateful thanks will be added to thofe you have
had from me already ; and Lady Mary will be fpo-
ken of with refpedl and tendernefs fome years longer.
This laft winter has feen great revolutions in my
little affairs. My ficknefs was preceded by the death
of my father, which happened within a few days after
I had writ to you, inviting myfelf to meet you in your
journey homewards. I have yet a mother of great
age and infirmities, whofe laft precarious days of life
I am now attending, with fuch a folemn pious kind of
officioufnefs as a melancholy reclufe watches the laft
rifmgs and fallings of a dying taper. My natural
temper is pretty much broke, and I live half a hermit
c c 4 within
392 LETTERS TO
within five miles of London. A letter from you
fooths me in my reveries ; 'tis like a converfation
with fome fpirit of the other world, the leaft glimpfe
of whofe favour fets one above all tafte of the things
of this : indeed there is little or nothing angelical left
behind you ; the women here are women. I can't
exprefs how I long to fee you face to face ; if ever
you come again, I mall never be able to behave with
decency, I mall walk, look, and talk at fuch a rate
that all the town mud know I have feen fomething
more than human. Come, for God's fake ; come,
Lady Mary j come quickly !
I extremely regret the lofs of your Oriental learn-
ing, for that letter I never had, but am heartily glad
you kept a copy. I believe one of mine had the fame
fate, wherein I begged a Circaflian woman of you,
the likeft yourfelf that could be purchafed. Don't
think to put me off with a little likenefs of you ; the
girl which I hear you have fome way or other pro.
cured, and are bringing with you, is not fit for me ;
whatever you may fancy, Molineux is married, and
I am paft a boy.
I muft tell you a flory of Molineux : the other
day, at the prince's levee, he took Mr. Edgecomb
afide, and afked, with an air of ferioufnefs, What did
the Czar of Mufcovy, when he difinherited his fon,
do with his fecretary ? To which Edgecomb an-
fwered, He was fewed up in a football, and toft over
the water.
Now
LADY M. W. MONTAGUE. 393
Now I am got among your acquaintance, you muft
be content to hear how often I talk of you with Mr.
Craggs, Mr. Methuen, Mr. Congreve, D. of Buck-
ingham, Sir R. Rich, Mifs Griffin, &c. I am almoft
angry to go into any body's company where I ever faw
you; I partly enjoy and partly regret it. It is not
without vexation that I roam on the Thames in a fine
evening, or walk by moonlight in St. James's park :
I can fcarce allow any thing mould be calm, or any
thing fweet, without you. Give me leave at this di-
flance to fay, that I am fomething fo much between
a philofopher and a lover, that I am continually angry
at fortune for letting me enjoy thofe amufements
which I fancy you want ; and I feldom receive any
pleafure, but it is got into my head, why has me not
a mare of it ? This is really true ; and yet you are
not fo prodigioufly obliged to me neither, becaufe I
wifh almoft every vanity that can delight them.
Our gallantry and gaiety have been great fufferers
by the rupture of the two courts here : fcarce any
ball, afiembly, baflet-table, or any place where two or
three are gathered together. No lone houfe in Wales,
with a rookery, is more contemplative than Hampton-
Court : I walked there the other day by the moon,
and met no creature of any quality but the king, who
was giving audience all alone to the birds under the
garden wall.
How many hundred things have I to fay to you,
not ten of which, perhaps, I mail remember when
we
394 LETTERS TO
we meet. I have feen many fine things, many vile
things, and many ridiculous things, all which are an
amufement to thofe who can think : though one
emulates the firft fort, it's hurt by the fecond, and vext
at the third. If one laughs at the world, they'll fay
he is proud ; if one rails at it, they'll fay he is ill-
natured ; and yet one or other of thefe one mufl do
upon the whole. I am melancholy, which (to fay
truth) is all one gets by pleafure themfelves ; but I
mould not tell you this, if I did not think you of
opinion, that melancholy does me as little hurt as any
man : and, after all, he muft be a beaft that can be
melancholy with fuch a fine woman as you to his
friend. Adieu. Were I your guardian fpirit, your
happinefs would be my whole care ; as I am a poor
mortal, it is one of my moft earneft wifhes.
Yours.
I beg you write to me foon ; you are now come
into the region of pofts, and under the care of fecre-
taries, the whole fucceffion of whom are your fer-
vants, and give me more than penfions and places,
when they give me your letters.
LADY M. W. MONTAGUE, 395
LETTER VIII.
Dear Madam,
j'Tpis not poffible to exprefs the leaft: part of the
joy your return gives me ; time only and expe-
rience will convince you how very fmcere it is. I
exceffively long to meet you, to fay fo much, fo very
much to you, that I believe I mail fay nothing. I
have given orders to be fent for the firft minute of
your arrival (which I beg you will let them know at
Mr. Jervas's). I am fourfcore miles from London,
a fhort journey compared to that I fo often thought
at leaft of undertaking, rather than die without feeing
you again. Though the place I am in is fuch as I
would not quit for the town, if I did not value you
more than any, nay every body elfe there ; and you'll
be convinced how little the town has engaged my
affections in your abfence from it, when you know
what a place this is which I prefer to it; I fhall
therefore defcribe it .to you at large, as the true pic-
ture of a genuine ancient country-feat.
You muft expecl nothing regular in my defcription
of a houfe that feems to be built before rules were in
famion : the whole is fo disjointed, and the parts fo
detached from each other, and yet fo joining again
one can't tell how, that (in a poetical fit) you'd ima-
gine it had been a village in Amphion's time, where
twenty
396 LETTERS TO
twenty cottages had taken a dance together, were all
out, and flood ftill in amazement ever fince. A
ftranger would be grievoufly difappointed who mould
ever think to get into this houfe the right way : one
would expect, after entering through the porch, to be
let into the hall ; alas ! nothing lefs; you find your-
felf in a brewhoufe. From the parlour you think to
ftep into the drawing-room j but, upon opening the
iron-nailed door, you are convinced by a flight of
birds about your ears, and a cloud of duft in your
eyes, that 'tis the pigeon-houfe. On each fide our
porch are two chimnies, that wear their greens on the
outfide, which would do as well within, for whenever
we make a fire, we let the fmoke out of the windows.
Over the parlour-window hangs a floping balcony,
which time has turned to a very convenient penthoufe.
The top is crowned with a very venerable tower, fo
like that of the church juft by, that the jackdaws
build in it as if it were the true fteeple.
The great hall is high and fpacious, flanked with
long tables, images of ancient hofpitality; ornamented
with monftrous horns, about twenty broken pikes,
and a match-lock mufquet or two, which they fay
were ufed in the civil wars. Here is one vaft arched
window, beautifully darkened with divers fcutcheons
of painted glafs. There feems to be great propriety
in this old manner of blazoning upon glafs, ancient
families being like ancient windows, in the courfe of
generations feldom free from cracks. One mining
pane
LADY M. W. MONTAGUE. 397
pane bears date 1286. The youthful face of Dame
Elinor owes more to this fmgle piece, than to all the
glafles me ever confulted in her life. Who can fay
after this that glafs is frail, when it is not half fo pe-
rifhable as human beauty or glory ? for in another
pane you fee the memory of a knight preferred,
whofe marble nofe is mouldered from his monument
in the church adjoining. And yet, mufl not one figh
to refleft, that the moft authentic record of fo ancient
a family mould lie at the mercy of every boy that
throws a ftone ? In this hall, in former days, have
dined gartered knights and courtly dames, with ufliers,
fewers, and fenefchals j and yet it was but t'other
night that an owl flew in hither, and miftook it for a
barn.
This hall lets you up, (and down,) over a very
high threfliold, into the parlour. It is furnimed with
hiftorical tapeflry, whofe marginal fringes do confefs
the moifture of the air. The other contents of this
room are a broken-bellied virginal, a couple of
crippled velvet chairs, with two or three mildewed
pictures of mouldy anceftors, who look as difmally
as if they came frefh from hell with all their brim-
ftone about 'em. Thefe are carefully fet at the fur-
ther corner; for the windows being every where
broken, make it fo convenient a place to dry poppies
and muftard-feed in, that the room is appropriated
to that ufe.
Next
398 LETTERS TO
Next this parlour lies (as I faid before) the pigeon-
houfe; by the fide of which runs an entry that leads,
on one hand and t'other, into a bed-chamber, a but-
tery, and a fmall hole called the chaplain's ftudy.
Then follow a brewhoufe, a little green-and-gilt par-
lour, and the great ftairs, under which is the dairy.
A little further on the right, the fervants' hall ; and
by the fide of it, up fix fteps, the old lady's clofet,
which has a lettice into the faid hall, that while fhe
faid her prayers, fhe might caft an eye on the men
and maids. There are upon this ground-floor in all
twenty-four apartments, hard to be diftinguifhed by
particular names j among which I muft not forget a
chamber, that has in it a large antiquity of timber,
which feems to have been either a bedftead or a cyder-
prefs.
Our beft room above is very long and low, of the
exacl: proportion of a band-box : it has hangings of
the fineft work in the world, thofe I mean which
Arachne fpins out of her own bowels : indeed the
roof is fo decayed, that after a favourable mower of
rain, we may (with God's blefling) expeft a crop of
mumrooms between the chinks of the floors.
All this upper flory has for many years had no
other inhabitants than certain rats, whofe very age
renders them worthy of this venerable manfion, for
the very rats of this ancient feat are grey. Since
thefe had not quitted it, we hope at lead this houfe
may ftand during the fmall remainder of days thefe
poor
LADY M. W. MONTAGUE. 399
poor animals have to live, who are now too infirm
to remove to another: they have flill a fmall fubfiftence
left them in the few remaining books of the library.
I had never feen half what I have defcribed, but
for an old ftarched grey-headed fteward, who is as
much an antiquity as any in the place, and looks like
an old family picture walked out of its frame. He
failed not, as we paft from room to room, to relate
feveral memoirs of the family, but his obfervations
were particularly curious hi the cellar: he mewed
where flood the triple rows of buts of fack, and where
were ranged the bottles of tent for toads in the morn-
ing : he pointed to the ftands that fupported the
iron-hooped hogfheads of flrong beer ; then ftepping
to a corner, he lugged out the tattered fragment of an
unframed picture : " This (fays he, with tears in his
" eyes) was poor Sir Thomas, once mafter of the drink
" I told you of: he had two fons (poor young maf-
" ters!) that never arrived to the age of this beer; they
" both fell ill in this very cellar, and never went out
" upon their own legs." He could not pafs by a broken
bottle, without taking it up to mew us the arms of
the family on it. He then led me up the tower, by
dark winding ftone fteps, which landed us into feveral
little rooms, one above another ; one of thefe was
nailed up, and my guide whifpered to me the occafion
of it. It feems, two centuries ago, by a freak of the
Lady Frances, who was here taken with a neighbouring
prior; ever fmce which, the room has been made up,
and branded with the name of the adultery-chamber.
The
400 LETTERS TO
The ghoft of Lady Frances is fuppofed to walk here ;
fome prying maids of the family formerly reported
that they faw a lady in a fardingale through the key-
hole ; but this matter was hulhed up, and the fer-
vants forbid to talk of it.
I muft needs have tired you with this long letter ;
but what engaged me in the defcription was a gene-
rous principle to preferve the memory of a thing that
muft itfelf foon fall to ruin ; nay, perhaps, fome part
of it before this reaches your hands : indeed, I owe
this old ho ufe the fame gratitude that we do to an old
friend, that harbours us in his declining condition,
nay even in his laft extremities. I have found this an
excellent place for retirement and ftudy, where no one
who paifes by can dream there is an inhabitant, and
even any body that would vifit me dares not venture
under my roof. You will not wonder I have tranf-
lated a great deal of Homer in this retreat ; any one
that fees it will own I could not have chofen a fitter
or more likely place to converfe with the dead. As
foon as I return to the living, it mail be to converfe
with the beft of them. I hope therefore very fpeedily
to tell you in perfon how fmcerely and unalterably