no notice taken. The next morning she received a card to say, Lady D. had not expected to see her after what had passed; otherwise she would have ordered her porter not to let her in. The whole affair was immediately told to every body. Yet she had continued going about all public places téte levée, and solemnly denying the whole to her acquaintance. Since that I hear she owns it, and says, her children were unprovided for, and desires to know which of her friends would not have done the same? but as neither of these expedients succeed very well, she has hired a small house, and is going into the country for the summer.

Here has just been a duel between the duke of Bolton and Mr. Stewart (a candidate for the county of Hampshire at the late election) what the quarrel was, I do not know; but they met near Mary-le-bone, and the D. in making a pass, over-reached himself, fell down and hurt his knee, the other bid him get up, but he could not; then he bid him ask his life, but he would not; so he let him alone, and that's all. Mr. Stewart was slightly wounded.

The old Pundles, that sat on Ld. G. Sackville, (for they were all such, but two, Gen. Cholmondeley and La Albermarle) have at last hammered out their sentence. He is declared disobedient and unfit for all military command. It is said that nine (out of the fifteen) were for death, but as two thirds must be unanimous, some of them came over to the merciful side. I do not affirm the truth of this. What he will do with himself, nobody guesses. The poor old duke went into the country some time ago, and (they say) can hardly bear the sight of any body. The unembarrassed countenance, the looks of sovereign contempt and superiority, that his Lr bestowed on his accusers during

the trial, were the admiration of all: but his usual talents and art did not appear, in short his cause would not support him. Be that as it will, every body blames somebody, who has been out of all temper, and intractable during the whole time. Smith (the Aid-de-camp, and principal witness for Ld. G.) had no sooner finished his evidence, but he was forbid to mount guard, and ordered to sell out. The court and the criminal went halves in the expence of the short-hand writer, so L G. has already published the trial, before the authentic copy appears; and in it are all the foolish questions that were asked, and the absurdities of his judges, you may think perhaps that he intends to go abroad, and hide his head: au contraire, all the world visits him on his condemnation. He says himself his situation is better than ever it was; the Scotch have all along affected to take him under their protection; his wife has been daily walking with Lady Augusta (during the trial) in Leicester gardens, and Lord B.'s chariot stands at his door by the hour.

Ld Ferrers has entertained the town for three days; I was not there, but Mason and Stonehewer were in the D. of Ancaster's gallery, and in the greatest danger (which I believe they do not yet know themselves), for the cell underneath them (to which the prisoner retires), was on fire during the trial, and the D. of Aner with the workmen, by sawing away away some timbers, and other assistance, contrived to put it out without any alarm given to the Court: several now recollect they smelt burning, and heard a noise of sawing, but none guessed as to the cause. Miss Johnson, daughter to the murthered man, appeared so cool, and gave so gentle an evidence, that at first

† See a full account of this Trial, in Smollett's History of England, Vol. V. p. 181-190.

sight every one concluded she was bought off; but this could do him little good. The surgeon and his own servants laid open such a scene of barbarity and long-meditated malice, as left no room for his plea of lunacy, nor any thought of pity in the hearers. The oddest thing was this plea of temporary lunacy, and his producing two brothers of his to prove it, one a Clergyman (suspended for Methodism by the BP of London); ' the other a sort of Squire, that goes in the country by the name of Ragged and Dangerous. He managed the cause himself with more cleverness than any of his Counsel, and (when found guilty,) asked pardon for his plea, and laid it upon the persuasions of his family. Mrs. Shirley, (his mother), Lady Huntingdon, and others of the relations were at Court yesterday with a petition for mercy; but on the 5th of May he is to be hanged at Tyburn.

The town are reading the K. of Prussia's poetry, (Le Philosophe sans souci), and I have done like the town; they do not seem so sick of it as I am. It is all the scum of Voltaire and Bolingbroke, the crambe recocia of our worst Freethinkers, tossed up in German-French rhyme. Tristram Shandy is still a greater object of adm.ration, the man as well as the book. One is invited to dinner, where he dines, a fortnight beforehand. His portrait is done by Reynolds, and now engraving. Dodsley gives £700 for a second edition, and two new volumes not yet written; and to-morrow will come out two volumes of Sermons by him. Your friend, Mr. Hall, has printed two Lyric Epistles, one to my Cousin Shandy on his coming to town, the other to the grown gentlewomen, the Misses of York they seem to me to be absolute madness. These are the best lines in them.

I'll tell you a story of Elijah--
Close by a mob of children stood,
Commenting on his sober mood, &c.

And back'd them (their opinions) like such sort of folks,
With a few stones and a few jokes:

Till weary of their pelting and their prattle,

He ordered out his bears to battle.

It was delightful fun

To see them run

And eat up the young cattle.

The 7th volume of Buffon is come over: do

have it?

over: do you chuse to

Poor Lady Cobham is at last delivered from a painful life. she has given Miss Speed above £30,000.

Mr. Brown is well: I heard from him yesterday, and think of visiting him soon. Mason and Stonehewer are both in town, and (if they were here) would send their best compliments to you and Mrs. Whn with mine. You see I have left no room for weather, yet I have observed the birth of the Spring, which (though backward) is very beautiful at present. Mind, from this day the thermometer goes to its old place below in the yard, and so pray let its sister do. Mr. Stillingfleet (with whom I am grown acquainted) has convinced me it ought to do so.

Adieu !

LETTER LXXXVIII.

MR. GRAY TO MR. STONEHEWER.

London, June 29, 1760.

you

THOUGH have had but a melancholy employment, it is worthy of envy, and (I hope) will have all the success it deserves*. It was the best and most natural method of cure, and such as could not have been administered by any but your gentle hand. I thank you for communicating to me what must give you so much satisfaction.

I too was reading M. D'Alembert,+ and (like you) am totally disappointed in his Elements. I could only taste a little of the first course: it was dry as a stick, hard as a stone, and cold as a cucumber. But then the letter to Rousseau is like himself; and the Discourses on Elocution, and on the Liberty of Music, are divine. He has added to his translations from Tacitus; and (what is remarkable) though that Author's manher more nearly resembles the best French Writers of the pre

* Mr. Stonehewer was now at Houghton-le-Spring, in the Bishoprick of Durham, attending on his sick father, rector of that parish.-Mason.

+ Two subsequent volumes of his "Melanges de Literature & Philosophie."Mason.