THE HON. H. WALPOLE TO THE REV. W. COLE.

Arlington Street, June 11, 1771.

You are very kind, dear sir, and I ought to be, nay, what is more, I am, ashamed of giving you so much trouble; but I am in no hurry for the letters. I shall not set out till the seventh, next month, and it will be sufficient if I receive them a week before I set out. Mr. C. C. C. C. is very welcome to attack me about a duchess of Norfolk. He is even welcome to be in the right, to the edification, I hope, of all the matrons of the Antiquarian Society, who, I trust, will insert his criticisms in the next volume of their Archæologia, or Old Woman's Logic; but indeed I cannot bestow my time on any more of them, nor employ myself in detecting witches for vomiting pins. When they turn extortioners, like their masters, the law should punish them, not only for roguery, but for exceeding their province, which our ancestors limited to killing their neighbour's cow, or crucifying dolls of wax. For my own part, I am so far from being out of charity with him, that I would give him a nag or a new broom whenever he has a mind to ride to the Antiquarian Sabbat, and preach against me. Though you have more cause to be angry, laugh at him as I do. One has not life enough to throw away on all the fools and knaves that come across one. I have often been attacked, and never replied but to Mr. Hume and Dr. Milles; to the first, because he had a name; to the second, because he had a mind to have one: and yet I was in the

wrong, for it was the only way he could attain one. In truth, it is being too self-interested to expose only one's private antagonists, when one lets worse men pass unnoticed. Does a booby hurt me by an attack on me more than by any other foolish thing he does? Does he not tease me more by any thing he says to me without attacking me, than by any thing he says against me behind my back?

I shall therefore most certainly never inquire after or read Mr. C. C. C. C.'s criticisms, but leave him to oblivion with her grace of Norfolk, and our wise society. As I doubt my own writings will soon be forgotten, I need not fear that those of my answerers will be remembered. I am, dear sir, yours most sincerely.

THE HON. H. WALPOLE TO THE REV. W. COLE. Arlington Street, Jan. 28, 1772.

I

Since

MR. MASON has shown me the relics of poor Mr. Gray. I am sadly disappointed at finding them so very inconsiderable. He always persisted, when I inquired about his writings, that he had nothing by him. I own I doubted. am grieved he was so very near exact. given to the world for twelve guineas! Gray valued them as "nothing," and Mason would not publish even a scrap. I speak of my own satisfaction. As to his genius, what he published during his life will establish his fame as long as our language lasts, and there is a man of genius left. There is a silly fellow, I do not

know who, that has published a volume of letters on the English nation, with characters of our modern authors. He has talked such nonsense of Mr. Gray, that I have no patience with the compliments he has paid me. He must have an excellent taste! and gives me a woful opinion of my own trifles, when he likes them, and cannot see the beauties of a poet that ought to be ranked in the first line. I am more humbled by any applause in the present age, than by hosts of such critics as Dr. Milles. Is not Garrick reckoned a tolerable author, though he has proved how little sense is necessary to form a great actor! His Cymon, his prologues and epilogues, and forty such pieces of trash, are below mediocrity, and yet delight the mob in the boxes, as well as in the footman's gallery. I do not mention the things written in his praise, because he writes most of them himself. But you know any one popular merit can confer all merit. Two women talking of Wilkes, one said he squinted; the other replied, "Well, if he does, it is not more than a man should squint." For my part, I can see extremely well how Garrick acts, without thinking him six feet high. It is said that Shakspeare was a bad actor. Why do not his divine plays make our wise judges conclude that he was a good one? They have not a proof of the contrary, as they have in Garrick's worksbut what is it to you or me what he is? We may see him act with pleasure, and nothing obliges us to read his writings. Adieu, dear sir, yours most truly,

H. W.

THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE TO THE

REV. W. COLE.

Strawberry Hill, March 28, 1779. I HAVE been much amused with new travels through Spain, by a Mr. Swinburne,—at least with the account of the Alhambra, of the minor parts of which there are two beautiful prints. The Moors were the most polished, and had most taste of any people in the Gothic ages, and I hate the knave Ferdinand and his bigoted queen for destroying them. These new travels are simple, and do tell one a little more than late voyages, by whose accounts one would think there was nothing in Spain but Muleteers and Fandangos. In truth, there does not seem to be much worth seeing but prospects,and those, unless I were a bird, I would never visit, when the accommodations are so wretched.

Mr. Cumberland has given the town a masque, called Calypso, which is a prodigy of dulness. Would you believe that such a sentimental writer would be so gross as to make Cantharides one of the ingredients of the love potion for enamouring Telemachus? If you think I exaggerate, here are the lines:

To these the hot Hispanian fly

Shall bid his languid pulse beat high.

Proteus and Antiope are Minerva's missioners for securing the prince's virtue, and, in recompense, they are married and crowned king and

queen.

I have bought, at Hudson's sale, a fine design for a chimney piece, by Holbein for Henry VIIIth.

If I had a room left, I would erect it. It is certainly not so Gothic as that in my Holbein room, but there is a great deal of taste for that bastard style.

I do intend, under Mr. Essex's inspection, to begin my offices next spring. It is late in my day, I confess, to return to brick and mortar, but I shall be glad to perfect my plan, or the next possessor will marry my castle to a Doric stable. There is a perspective through two or three rooms in the Alhambra, that might easily be improved into the Gothic, though there seems but small affinity between them, and they might be finished within with Dutch tiles and painting, or bits of ordinary marble, as there must be gilding.— Mosaic seems to have been their chief ornament for walls, ceilings, and floors. Fancy must sport in the furniture, and mottoes might be very gallant, and would be very Arabesque. I would have a mixture of colours, but with strict attention to harmony and taste; and some one should predominate, as supposing it to be the favourite colour of the lady who was sovereign of the knight's affections who built the house. Carpets are classically Mahometan, and fountains,—but, alas! our climate, till last summer, was never romantic! Were I not so old, I would at least build a Moorish novel-for you see my head runs on Granada, and by taking the most picturesque parts of the Mahometan and Catholic religions, and with the mixture of African and Spanish names, one might make something very agreeable,—at least, I will not give the hint to Mr. Cumberland.-Adieu.