His establishment at his villa was not very splendid; nor had his Lordship a very high character for hospitality. It was facetiously said by an author, who went to dine at ⸺, on invitation, that he returned as he went—exceedingly hungry. He had, however, his gala days, when splendour went hand in hand with plenty. But his servants were on board-wages; and when alone, his Lordship lived on the very humblest fare, drinking only water. He was a dreadful martyr to the gout, and the chalk-stones on his fingers were distressing to see: he held his pen with difficulty between his first and second finger. On the first symptoms of the approach of gout, he plunged his feet into cold water—by many thought a most desperate experiment, but from which he, of course, either received benefit, or conceived that he did.
He was, in the truest sense of the word, a perfect courtier. He was consummately insincere; and would compliment and flatter those in conversation, whom, in his correspondence, he sneered at and abused. This was, in a more particular manner, the case with some literary acquaintances, who, when he wanted their aid and information in the prosecution of any pursuit, were ostensibly very high indeed in his esteem; but, when he had got all he wanted, were either noticed with coldness, or made objects of his ridicule and contempt. This was remarkably the fact with respect to Richard Gough, and Cole of Milton.
He was accustomed to speak of those admirable specimens of satire, the Baviad and Mæviad, in terms of rapture: his expression was, “it is so soothing.” At the same time, more than one of the objects of that satire were among his “dearest friends,” and complimented by him on their poetic talents.
On the first appearance of Dr. Darwin’s celebrated poem on “The Loves of the Plants,” he was extravagant in his commendation of it—“we had seen nothing equal to it since the time of Pope.” His Lordship’s admiration of it cooled afterwards. He certainly had an elegant taste for poetry; and his smaller compositions of this kind, are models in their way. He had no great extent of capacity, and very little learning; but he was undoubtedly a most entertaining companion, and a very polished and accomplished gentleman.—So much for H. W.
Tu procerum de stirpe solus prægressus et ipsos,
Unde genus claræ nobilitatis erat,
Ore decens, bonus ingenio, facundus—et omni
Dexteritate vigens.