tune. Not to keep you in suspense, I was foolish enough last night to lose near £400. Having told you this, a circumstance which shame and anger would rather have obliged me to conceal, I must tell you all the incidents, in case any of them should strike you as an extenuation of my indiscretion, which perhaps, upon your concurrence, may induce me to become sooner by some months in humour with myself again. Your goodness to me upon this last occasion has made an impression upon me that nothing can efface; and though I reflect upon it with great pleasure, yet there are moments when I cannot help feeling that by my extravagance I abuse your generosity.

I protest I never had a thought of having recourse to play as a resource; yet I could not resist a wish that by some means or other I could have diminished the weight of the account we have called in. A circumstance had happened in the course of the day which had extremely disordered me; the anxiety of my mind was intolerable; and the dread of going home to my bed, and of my reflections, got for once the better of my resolution. I sat down with hopes of diverting my attention from what had given me so much pain. My particular reasons for wishing to win I have before explained to you. The attempt by no means answered, and I am as miserable as any one can be who has reason to despise himself, and

who is oppressed with a million of other disagreeable circumstances. Brooks was, in the list of debts I made out, a creditor for £100. He is now by my cursed folly £500.

I know how dangerous it is to break a resolution, and know also that it justifies any fears you may have about my future conduct. But if you were to know what I have suffered from shame, vexation, and contrition for this first deviation. from my system, you would I am sure think me more secure from what has happened. I have no reason to think I am again to be blown about in such a whirlwind of passions as I was yesterday. The obligation to conceal them, added to my sufferings, in short, the whole transactions of yesterday appear to me like a dream, and a very painful one indeed. Well, I think I have at least given my sorrows vent. Gregg came yesterday; he dines with me on Tuesday, when I hope I shall be able to fix my journey. There is no news. Mie Mie I hope continues well. You have no idea how this thing has fretted me.

Yours most affectionately, etc.

Lady Diana Beauclerk to George Selwyn.

BATH, NOV. 21 [1776].

I am vastly obliged to you for your long letter;

indeed it was not at all a

; I dare not write

the word, because you seem to have such an objec

tion to it; and as I am quite ignorant of its sens radical, it is better not to use it.'

I

I have wrote once more to Mrs. Terry, and I hope that nothing but the children not being perfectly well will prevent them coming with you. am perfectly at ease about their journey, approve of the cavalcade, and still more of the private orders. I must insist upon Mary's sitting backward, at least part of the way. I would not have Mie Mie crowded for the world, and should be quite unhappy if I thought my girls were the least trouble to you or her.

Bob is here, and tired to death already. Entre nous, this is a most detestable place; and, to make it complete, the Princess Amelia is here, poking about in every corner. It is impossible to stir without meeting her, and as I have no hopes of her being gracious enough to take notice of me, I am obliged to avoid her. Perhaps you think that her taking notice of one would be a still better reason for avoiding her.

The Fawkeners are gone; I do not know where. Mr. B.3 sends his compliments to you. I think

The expression was probably "a bore;" a term which has since been so familiarised to us that it has lost its vulgarity.

2 The Princess Amelia, second daughter of George II. She united, with a charitable disposition and a natural goodness of heart, a taste for horses and the card-table, as well as a habit of prying into the affairs of others, and saying disagreeable things. She died October 31, 1786, at the age of seventy-five.

Topham Beauclerk.

my signing my name as unnecessary as your doing it.

FRANCIS, MARQUIS OF HERTFORD.

FRANCIS, first Earl and Marquis of Hertford, was born in 1719. In August, 1757, he was installed a Knight of the Garter; in June, 1763, he was sworn of the Privy Council, and shortly afterward appointed ambassador extraordinary to the court of France. In August, 1765, he was appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland; in August, 1766, master of the horse; and in December following, lord chamberlain of the household. Lord Hertford (who is now principally known as the correspondent of Horace Walpole) married, May 29, 1741, Isabella, youngest daughter of Charles, second Duke of Grafton, and died June 14, 1794.

The Earl of Hertford to George Selwyn.

November 27, 1776.

DEAR SIR: You do me justice in supposing me always inclined to obey commands of yours, and I will only beg to know whether the tickets you desire are for the lord chamberlain's box or the common gallery.

In the one, we suppose virtue and rank, as they always go together, to be the qualifications for admission. In the other, beauty and protection are quite sufficient.

There is but a thin rail between the two, notwithstanding all my distinctions, and you will command me where your friends shall be placed. I am, dear sir,

Your very faithful humble servant,

HERTFORD.

The Earl of Carlisle to George Selwyn.

CASTLE HOWARD, December 1st [1776]. MY DEAR GEORGE:- We stayed rather longer at Milton than we at first intended, and did not get here till Thursday. We found the children quite well, and very happy to see us; though we have been absent but two months, I cannot help thinking they are grown. I was in hopes to have been able to congratulate you upon Mie Mie's having the measles; as she certainly will have that distemper, she cannot have it at a better age. I flatter myself that bleeding has removed this little indisposition, and your anxiety upon the subject.

Lord Gower tells me there is likely to be a duel about the Morning Post. Your maxim is to despise the nonsense; mine is, not to read it. I cannot see what fighting can avail the accused, if he is accused with reason; for as the injury is an injury to society, society ought to punish the offence. The people of this country are shamefully negligent, and by no means from good nature, in keeping at a distance those whom it is dangerous to associate with. They persecute them at first with