504 
same time confess, that they contain se- 
veral expressions which, even in an age 
less delicate than the present, must have 
appeared too bold to escape a female 
pens and breathe a spirit of libertine 
evity, which it may be difficult to avoid 
inhaling in the corrupt atmosphere of a 
court, but which imparts a taint that 
neither wit the most brilliant, nor good 
sense the most admirable, can discuise 
or palliate. That woman must have 
been more than a saint who could ree 
frain from talking scandal, when she 
was capable of clothing it in such a 
style as this! 
** Poor Lady G is parting from her 
discreet spouse for a mere trifle. She had a 
mind to take the air this spring in a new 
yacht (which Lord Hillsborough built for 
many good uses, and which has been the 
scene of much pleasure and pain): she went 
in company with his lordship, Fabrice, Mr. 
Cook, Lady Litchfield, and her sister, as 
fir as Greenwich, and from thence as far as 
the mouth of the Nore; when to the great 
surprize of the good company, who thought 
it impossible the wind dhdwld not be so fair 
to bring them back as it was to carry them 
thither, they found there was. no possibility 
of returning that night. Lady G——, in 
all the concern of a good wife, desired her 
Jord might be informed of ker safety, and 
that she was no way blameable in stay- 
ing out all night. Fabrice wrote a most 
gallant Jetter to Lord G 3 concluding 
that Mr. Cook presents his humble service 
to him, and let him know (in case of ne- 
cessity) his wife was in town: but his lord- 
ship not liking the change, T suppose, car- 
ried the letter straight to the king’s majesty, 
who net being at leisure to give an audience, 
he sent it in open by Mahomet; though it 
is hard to guess what sort of redress he in- 
tended to petition for—the nature of the 
thing being such, that had he complained 
he was no cuckold, his majesty at least 
might have prevailed that some of his court 
might confer that dignity upon him; but if 
he was, neither king, council, nor the two 
houses of partiament, could make it null 
and of none effect, This public rupture is 
succeeded by a treaty of separation, and here 
is all the scandal that is uppermost in my 
head. I should be glad to contribute any 
way to your entertaimment, and am. very 
sorry you stand in so much need of it. I 
am ever yours, sk os 
¢¢M. W. Montacu.” 
But Lady Mary, with all her spright- 
liness, had certainly too much good 
sense, probably too many right feelings, 
to be happy in such a continued scene of 
BIOGRAPHY. 
vice and folly; and the spleen of the 
following letter does her more honour — 
‘than all the wit of the former. 
«© This is a vile world, dear sister, and I 
can easily comprehend, that whether one is 
at Paris or London, one is stifled with a 
certain mixture of fool and knave, which — 
most people are composed of. I would have 
patience with a parcel of polite rogues, or 
downright honest fools; but father Adam 
shines through his whole progeny. So much 
for our inside ; then our outward is so liable 
to ugliness and distempers, that we are per- 
petually plagued with feeling our own de- 
cays and seeing those of other people. Yet, 
sixpennyworth of common sense, divided 
among a whole nation, would make our 
lives roll away glibly enough ; but then we 
make laws, and we follow customs: by 
the first we cut off our own pleasures, and 
by the second we are answerable for ‘the 
faults and extravagance of others. All these 
things, and five hundred more, convince 
me (as I have the most profound veneration 
for the author of nature) I am satisfied I 
have been one of the condemned ever since L 
was born; and in submission to the divine 
justice, I have no doubt but I deserved it in 
some pre-existent state. I will still hope 
that Lam only in purgatory ;, and that after 
whining and pining a certain, number of 
years, [ shall be translated to some more 
happy sphere, where virtue will be natural 
and custom reasonable; that 1s, in short, 
where common sense will reign. I grow 
very devout, as you see, and place all my 
hopes in the next life, being totally per- 
suaded of the nothingness of this. Don't 
you remember how miserable we were in 
the little parlour at Thoresby? we then 
thought marrying -would put us at once into 
possession of all we wanted. Then came—, 
though, after all, I am still of opinion, 
that it is extremely silly to submit to ill. 
fortune. One should pluck up a spirit, and 
live upon cordials when one can have no 
other nourishment. These are my present 
endeavours, and I run about, though I ~ 
have five thousand pins and needles in m 
heart. I try to console myself with a al 
damsel,*. who is at present every thing I 
like—but, alas! she is yet in a white frock. 
At fourteen, she may run away with the 
butler :—there’s one 6f the blessed efiects of 
disappointment; you are not only hurt by 
the thing present, but it cuts off all future 
hope, and makes your very expectations me+ 
lancholy.. Quelie wie ! 
“« M. W, M.” 
The letters written to her husband 
and daughter during her last residence 
abroad, exhibit this extraordinary wo- 
man in yet another point of view. They 
showsher, after passing the meridian of 
« * Herdaughter, afterwards countess of Bute,” 
