The general scramble for honours which usually marks a new reign had not yet ceased. Mrs. Scott thus refers to the part which some of her own family took in it.
Mrs. Scott to the Reverend W. Robinson. May 26, 1762.—“I cannot forbear wishing you could have an Irish bishopric, but your profession are too watchful to suffer such things to be vacant. I hear our cousin Robinson does not much like his promotion to Kildare. I suppose he does not entirely relish rising step by step. All travelling is expensive, and I believe none more so than the passing through the various stages of bishoprics; but I think he may be contented to rise à petits pas. His rising at all seems to proceed only from a want of anything to stop him, according to the philosophical axiom, that put a thing in motion and it will move for ever, if it meets with nothing to obstruct its course. Nature went but a slow pace when she made him, and did not jump into one perfection. Sir Septimus is tolerably contented with his fate in a world so regardless of real merit, and therefore little likely to reward his superlative merits. I hear that a week before he had this black rod given him (a proper reward for a preceptor), he declared that whoever would eat goose at court must swallow the feathers; but now they have been so well stroked down, he finds them go down easily enough.”
In a subsequent letter to her sister-in-law at Naples, Mrs. Scott lightly sketches a celebrated character at Bath.
“This place is by no means full, but it contains much wealth. Colonel Clive, the Nabob maker (is not that almost as great a title as the famous Earl of Warwick’s?), lives at Westgate House, with all the Clives about him. He has sold his possessions in India to the East India Company for £30,000 per annum, a trifling sum, which he dedicates to the buying of land. In a time when property is so fluctuating, I think he may see himself possessor of the whole kingdom, should his distempers allow him a long life; but his health is bad, and he purposes, when peace is made, at latest, to show at Rome the richest man in Europe. He lives in little pomp; moderate in his table, and still more so in equipage and retinue.”
Mrs. Scott now disappears for awhile, to make way for her more celebrated sister.
CHAPTER V.
The first letter of Mrs. Montagu’s in the hitherto unpublished series is addressed “To Mr. Robinson,” the writer’s brother. It is dated from “London, 28th of May, 1762.” Mr. Robinson was then residing at Naples, where his wife had recently given birth to a son. After the usual congratulations, Mrs. Montagu says: “I would have answered your letter the day after I received it, but was obliged to wait for the letter of recommendation to Mr. Pitt. Neither Lord Lyttelton or the Bishop of Carlisle are related to or acquainted with Mr. Pitt. Their sister married a distant cousin of Mr. George Pitt’s, and was parted from him, I believe, long before Mr. George Pitt was a man, and they have not ever had the least commerce with him.” After this explanation, the writer refers to the news of the day, and to one of the leading men of the time: “The Duke of Newcastle is about to resign his office and retire to the joys of private life. I am afraid he will find that the mind used to business does not find quiet in idleness. There is hardly a greater misfortune than to have the mind much accustomed to the tracasseries of the world. A country gentleman can amuse himself by angling in a trout-stream, or venturing his neck in a fox-chase; a studious man can enjoy his books in solitude, and, with tranquill pleasure, ‘woo lone quiet in her silent walk;’ but chiefs out of war and statesmen out of place, like all animals taken out of their proper climate, make a miserable affair of rural life. I dare say his Grace of Newcastle will fall to serpentizing rivers, and then wish himself again a fisher of men. Aurora may put on her finest robe to unbar the gates of Morn; he will still sigh that his folding doors are not open to a crowded levée. The notes of Philomel are not sweet to ears used to flattery; and what is the harvest home to a man used to collect the treasure of England?
“The king has purchased Buckingham House, and is going to fit it up elegantly for his retired hours. Her majesty promises to give us an heir very soon. Princess Amelia has purchased Gunnersbury House. The Duke of Portland died about ten days ago, and the Duke of Manchester last week.
“There has been a cold and fever in town, as universal as a plague, but, thank God! less fatal. Mr. Montagu had it violently, and we had ten servants sick at the same time. This distemper is not yet over. It grows more fatal, but I hope we shall have some rain, which will probably put a stop to it.... My poor friend Mrs. Donellan dyed of it the day before yesterday. She had been ill all the winter, and was unable to struggle with a new distemper.... We propose to go to Sandleford very soon, and I hope to have my sister Scott’s company there, which will make me very happy. Lady Bab Montagu has lost her sister, Lady Charlotte Johnson, who dyed in childbed.