LETTER CIV.

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MR. GRAY TO DR. WHARTON.

DEAR DOCTOR,

I FEEL very ungrateful every day that I continue silent, and yet I do not write to you; but now the pen is in my hand, and I am in for it. When I left When I left you, in spite of the rain, I went out of my way to Richmond, and made a shift to see the castle, and look down upon the valley, through which the Swale winds, that was all the weather would permit. At Rippon I visited the church, which we had neglected before, with some pleasure, and saw the Ure full to its brink, and very inclinable to overflow. Some faint gleams of sunshine gave me an opportunity of walking over Studley, and descending into the ruins of Fountain's Abbey, which I examined with attention. I passed over the ugly moor of Harrowgate, made a bow to the Queen's Head, and got late at night to Leeds; here the rain was so perverse I could scarce see the town, much less go to Kirkstall-Abbey, which was my intention, so I proceeded to Wakefield and Wentworth Castle. Here the sun again indulged me, and opened as beautiful a scene of rich and cultivated country as (I am told) Yorkshire affords. The water is all artificial, but with an air of nature, much wood, a very good house in the Queen Anne style, which is now new-fronting in a far better taste, by the present Earl; many pictures not

See Walpole's Observations on Modern Gardening, Vol. II. p. 545. “If a model is sought of the most perfect taste in architecture, where grace softens dignity, and lightness attempers magnificence; where proportion removes every part

worth a farthing, and a castle built only for a play-thing on the top of the hill as a point of view, and to command a noble prospect. I went on to Sheffield, liked the situation in a valley by a pretty river's side, surrounded with charming hills; saw the handsome parish church, with the chapel, and monuments of the Talbots. Then I entered the Peak, a country beyond comparison uglier than any other I have seen in England, black, tedious, barren, and not mountainous enough to please one with its horrors. This is mitigated, since you were there, by a wood like a bowling-green, which soon brought me to Chatsworth. The house has the air of a palace, the hills rising on three of its sides, shut out the view of its dreary neighbourhood, and are covered with wood to their tops; the front opens to the Derwent winding through the valley, which by the art of Mr. Brown, is now always visible and full to its brim; for heretofore it could not well be seen (but in rainy seasons) from the windows. A handsome bridge is lately thrown over it, and the stables taken away, which stood full in view between the house and the river. The prospect opens here to a wider tract of country, terminated by more distant hills; this scene is yet in its infancy, the objects are thinly scattered, and, the clumps and plantations lately made, but it promises well. in time. Within doors the furniture corresponds to the stateliness of the apartments, fine tapestry, marble door cases with fruit, flowers, and foliage, excellently done by old Cibber's father; windows of plate glass in gilded frames, and such a profusion of Gibbon's best carving in wood, viz. dead game,

from peculiar observation, and delicacy of execution recals every part to notice; when the position is the most happy, and even the colour of the stone the most harmonious, the virtuoso should be directed to the new front of Wentworth Castle; the result of the same elegant judgement that had before distributed so many beauties over that domain; and called from wood, water, hills, prospects, and buildings a compendium of picturesque nature, improved by the chastity of art."-See also a letter dated from Wentworth Castle, Vol. V. p. 270.

fish, shells, flowers, &c. as I never saw any where. The ceilings and staircases all painted by Verrio or Laguerre, in their usual sprawling way*, and no other pictures, but in one room 8 or 10 portraits, some of them very good, of James and Charles the first's time. The gardens are small, and in the French style, with waterworks, particularly a grand cascade of steps, and a temple d'eaur at the head of it.

From thence I went to Hardwicke +. One would think Mary Queen of Scots was but just walked down into the park with her guard for half-an-hour. Her gallery, her room of audience, her anti-chamber with the very canopies, chair of state, footstool, lit-de-repos, oratory, carpets, and hangings, just as she left them. A little tattered indeed, but the more venerable, and all preserved with religious care, and papered up in winter. The park and country are just like Hertfordshire. I went by Chesterfield and Mansfield, to revisit my old friend the Trent at Nottingham, where I passed two or three days, and from thence took stage coach to London.

When I arrived there, I found Professor Turner had been dead above a fortnight, and being cockered and spirited up by some friends (though it was rather of the latest) I got my name suggested to Lord Bute, you may easily imagine who undertook it, and indeed he did it with zeal. I received my answer

"Where sprawl the saints of Verrio and La Guerre.”—Pope.

+ Seat of the Duke of Devonshire in Nottinghamshire.-Mason. Professor of Modern Languages in the University of Cambridge.-Mason.

This person was the late Sir Henry Erskine. As this was the only application Mr. Gray ever made to ministry, I thought it necessary to insert his own account of it. The place in question was given to the tutor of Sir James Lowther.-Mason.

very soon, which was what you may easily imagine, but joined with great professions of his desire to serve me on any future occasion, and many more fine words that I pass over, not out of modesty, but for another reason. So you see I have made my fortune, like Sir Fr. Wronghead. This nothing is a profound secret, and no one here suspects it even now; to day I hear, that Delaval* has got it, but we are not yet certain; next to myself I wished for him.

You see we have made a peace. I shall be silent about it, because if I say any thing anti-ministerial, you will tell me, you know the reason; and if I approve it, you will tell me, I have expectations still all: I know is, that the D. of Newcastle and Lord Hardwicke both say, it is an excellent peace, and only Mr. Pitt calls it inglorious and insidious.

I had a little gout twice while I was in town, which confined me some time; yet I bespoke your chairs. They are what is called rout-chairs, but as they are to be a little better in shape and materials than ordinary, will come to about 6s. 9d. a chair. I desired your brother to judge, how he performed, and the first that was made was to be sent to him to

see.

My best respects to Mrs. Wharton, who. I suppose receives them in bed. How does she do? My compliments to Miss.. I am ever truly yours.

Cambridge, Dec. 4, 1762.

Mason is in Yorkshire now, but I missed of him.

Fellow of Pembroke-Hall, and of the Royal Society.-Mason.

LETTER CV.

MR. GRAY TO MR. MASON.

February, 8, 1763.

DOCTISSIME Domine, anne tibi arrident complimenta*? If so, I hope your vanity is tickled with the verghe d'oro of Count Algarotti, and the intended translation of Sig. Agostino Paradisi: for my part, I am ravished (for I too have my share). Are you upon the road to see all these wonders, and snuff up the incense of Pisa; or has Mr. Brown abated your ardour by sending you the originals? I am waiting with impatience for your coming.

* William Taylor Howe, Esq; of Stondon Place, near Chipping Ongar, in Essex, an honorary Fellow of Pembroke-Hall was now on his travels in Italy, where he had made an acquaintance with the celebrated Count Algarotti, and had recommended to him Mr. Gray's Poems and my Dramas. After the perusal he received a Letter from the Count, written in that style of superlative panegyric peculiar to Italians. A copy of this letter Mr. Howe had just now sent to our common friend Mr. Brown, then President of the College; and also another of the Count's, addressed to Sig. Paradisi, a Tuscan Poet; in which, after explaining the arguments of my two Dramatic Poems, he advises him to translate them; but principally Caractacus.-This anecdote not only explains the above paragraph, but the subsequent Letter. The Latin, at the beginning of the letter, alludes to a similar expression which a Fellow of a College had made use of to a foreigner who dined in the College Hall. Having occasion to ask him if he would eat any cabbage to his boiled beef, he said "anne tibi arrident Herba?"— Mason.