[Footnote 1: Giuseppe Tartini, of Padua, the celebrated composer of the Devil's Sonata: in which he attempted to reproduce an air which he dreamt that Satan had played to him while he was asleep; but, in his own opinion, he failed so entirely, that he declared that if he had any other means of livelihood he would break his violin and give up music.]
But for the Academy, I am not of it, but frequently in company with it: 'tis all disjointed. Madame ——, who, though a learned lady, has not lost her modesty and character, is extremely scandalised with the other two dames, especially with Moll Worthless [Lady Mary Wortley], who knows no bounds. She is at rivalry with Lady W[alpole] for a certain Mr. ——, whom perhaps you knew at Oxford. If you did not, I'll tell you: he is a grave young man by temper, and a rich one by constitution; a shallow creature by nature, but a wit by the grace of our women here, whom he deals with as of old with the Oxford toasts. He fell into sentiments with my Lady W[alpole] and was happy to catch her at Platonic love: but as she seldom stops there, the poor man will be frightened out of his senses when she shall break the matter to him; for he never dreamt that her purposes were so naught. Lady Mary is so far gone, that to get him from the mouth of her antagonist she literally took him out to dance country dances last night at a formal ball, where there was no measure kept in laughing at her old, foul, tawdry, painted, plastered personage. She played at pharaoh two or three times at Princess Craon's, where she cheats horse and foot. She is really entertaining: I have been reading her works, which she lends out in manuscript, but they are too womanish: I like few of her performances. I forgot to tell you a good answer of Lady Pomfret to Mr. ——, who asked her if she did not approve Platonic love? "Lord, sir," says she, "I am sure any one that knows me never heard that I had any love but one, and there sit two proofs of it," pointing to her two daughters.
So I have given you a sketch of our employments, and answered your questions, and will with pleasure as many more as you have about you.
Adieu! Was ever such a long letter? But 'tis nothing to what I shall have to say to you. I shall scold you for never telling us any news, public or private, no deaths, marriages, or mishaps; no account of new books: Oh, you are abominable! I could find it in my heart to hate you, if I did not love you so well; but we will quarrel now, that we may be the better friends when we meet: there is no danger of that, is there? Good-night, whether friend or foe! I am most sincerely
Yours.
DEBATE ON PULTENEY'S MOTION FOR A COMMITTEE ON PAPERS RELATING TO THE WAR—SPEECHES OF PULTENEY, PITT, SIR R. WALPOLE, SIR W. GEORGE, ETC.—SMALLNESS OF THE MINISTERIAL MAJORITY.
TO SIR HORACE MANN.[1]
[Footnote 1: Sir H. Mann was an early friend of Walpole; and was
Minister at Florence from 1740-1786.]
[Illustration: SIR HORACE MANN.]
Friday, Jan. 22, 1742.