LORD WHAR'NCLIFFE'S EDITION OF LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU.

THE entire copy of this delightful work, which we have at last received, enables us to state, that its value consists in complete- ness, and the guarantee which it affords of authenticity ; the omis- sions of letters and passages, and the suppression of names, which Mr. DALLAWAY took upon himself to make in his edition, are here supplied; and any doubts that had been raised as to the au- thorship of parts dissipated by the best proofs that can now be procined—the evidence of family belief or family papers. The chief eovelty of Lord WnAnNel.IFFE'S edition consists in the In- troductery Anecdotes and Explanatory Notes, greatpart of which it seems are not written by his Lordship ; in the entire series of Letteis to Sir JAMES STEUART and his wife, and to the Lady PJMERFT, as well as in many additional letters, especially be- tween Lardy MARY and her husband, both before their marriage and during her last residence abroad. The embellishments are limited to family subjects : they consist of portraits of Mr. Me:st- em-it: and Lady Maks-, both in the bloom of youth,—and a very handseme couple they were, the husband in our eyes taking the pas, ; another of the Countess of BUTE, their daughter, whom not even the flattering art of REYNOLDS can prevent from looking sour, old womanish, and stolidly aristocratic; and a fourth of their well-known scamp of a son, whom ROMNEY has contrived to imbue with something of a barbaric ideality. We have formerly spoken of the superiority of Lady MARY WORTLEY as a letter-writer, even to HORACE WALeoLE, in regard to reality, spirit, and earnestness. Another point, though be- longieg more or less to most epistolary writers, is developed in her in fall perfection,—and that is the skilful adaptation of style and subject to those with whom she corresponds. To her hus- band, alter the first year or two, she writes like a shrewd, pru- dent, worldly friend, anxious to advance his interests or conciliate his esteem. From abroad, her topics to POPE arc critical, histo- rical, or descriptive of scenery and the people ; to an antiquarian she writes on antiquities; to the more enlightened of her female friends she describes the etiquette and manners of courts and courtiers, and the dresses and customs of the Turkish ladies. At home, the subjects of her letters are ill the main trilling—scandal, gossip, fashions, and orders for millinery, relieved by a clever remark, a character touched off to the life, or a tale of " fashion and reolity." Her letters to her daughter, during her last resi- dence abroad, are full of sound advice on the education and management of children; judicious or perhaps even deep reflec- tiens on life, expressed with terseness and point ; agreeable ececuuts of her incale of living, and rather interesting remarks on the current literature of the day, embracing the chefs-dunore of FIELDING, RICHARDSON, and SMOLLETT. To Lady ORFORD she always wrote down, as if she were addressing a fool for whom she had a regard. Her letters to Sir JAMES and Lady STEUART smack of threescore years and ten; and it is pretty clear from le:r criticism on Sir JAMLS'i Economy, that site found it easier to " praise than to read it." Her correspondence, like that of all we ever met with which extended over a long period, is not devoid of changes and broken friend :hips; but in this last paint she is womanly. A break only excites levity, spleen, or anger, unloss she had something to lose, or to fear.

In availing ourselves of the pre-ent opportunity to transfer to our pages s ene more specimens of Lady MARY'S composition, we shall give a preference to that which is new, without rigidly confining

ourselves to it; for DAseAwAy's edition is not of such extensive circulation us to have made its contents popular. At all events, such matter as we select will bear reprinting. The first extract is front a letter to her husband about two years after their mar- riage, at a time when the total prostration of the Tories and the succession of the Brunswick dynasty set every Whig agog for something.

REASONS AND or alorricariox role PEACE.

":0 F. w. r-./. i, t

Though I inn very impatient to see you, 1 v.-mild not have you, by hasteaing to come down, lose any part of your interest. I am surprised you say nutting of where you stand. I had a letter from Mrs. Ileivet last post, who said she heird you stood at Newark, and would be chose without opposition ; but I fear her intelligence i, not at all to he depended on. I sun glad you think of serving your Inc ads : I hope it will put you in mind of serving yourself. I need nut enlarge upon the advantages of money ; every thing we see and every thing we hear, puts us in remembrance of it. If it were possible to restore liberty to your country, or limit the encroachments of the prerogative by reducing your- self to a garret, I should be pleased to share so glorious a poverty with you; but, as the world is and will be, Otis a sort of duty to be rich that it may be in one's power to to good ; riches being another word for power, towards the ob- taining of which the titst necessary qualification is impudence, and (as Demos- thenes said of pronunciation iu (irately) the second is impudence, and the third, still, impudence.

PEERESSES retorts PEERS.

At the het warm debate in the House of Lords, it was unanimously resolved there should be no crowd of unnecessary auditors; consequently the fair sex were excluded, and the gallery destined to the sole use of the House of Com- mons. Notwithstanding which determinati in, a tribe of dames resolved to show on this occasion, that neither men nor laws could resist them. These heroines were Lade Huntingdon,* the Dutchess of Queensbury, the Dutchess of Ancaster, Lady Westmoreland, Lady Cobham, Lady Charlotte Edwin, Lady Archibald Hamilton, and her daughter, Mrs. Scott, and Mrs. Pendarvis, and Lady Frances Saunderson. I am thus particular in their names, since I look

• Lady Huntingdon, the Fame who afterwards became the head, the Countess 31a• tilda,of the Whitfieldiati Methudista,

desirupon them to be the boldest assertors, and most resigned sufferers for liberty I ever read of. They presented themselves at the door at nine o'clock in the morning, where Sir William Saunderson respectfully informed them the Chan- cellor had made an order against their admittance. The Dutchess of Queens- bury, as head of the squadron, pished at the ill-breeding of a mere lawyer, and ed esirree w d him to let them up stairs privately. After some modest refusals, he swore by G— he would not let them in. Her Grace, with a noble warmth, answered, by G— they would conic in, in spite of the Chancellor and the whole House. This being reported, the Peers resolved to starve them out : an order was made that the doors should nut be opened till they had raised their siege. These Amazons now showed themselves qualified for the duty even of foot soldiers: they stood there till five in the afternoon, without either suste- nance or evacuation, every now and then playing willies of thump's, kicks, and raps, against the door, with so much violence that the speakers in the House were scarce heals!. When the Lords were not to be conquered by this, the two Doteliesses (very well apprized of the use of stratagems in war) commanded a dead silence of half an hour ; and the Chancellor, who thought this is certain proof of their absence, (the Commons also being very impatient to enter, ) gave order for the opening of the door ; upon whirl' they all rushed in. poshest aside their competitors, and placed themselves in the frost rows of the gallery. They stayed there till after eleven, when the Ilouse rose; and during the de- bate gave applause, and showed marks of dislike, not only by smiles :mil winks (which have always been allowed in these cases). but by noisy laughs and ap- parent canteallits; which is supposed the true reasou why poor Luta Hervey spoke miserably.

The following account of the WALPOLxS, from the Introductory Anecdotes, is curious in itself, and is necessary us a clue to the severity with which HORACE WALPOLE always treats Lady MARY. The Memoir alluded to in the opening passage is a story about the marriage of Sir ROBERT'S sister, in which Lady W AL- POLE cuts a disreputable figure.

This brief memoir, it is observable, furnishes a clue to the origin of Horace Walpole's excessive dislike of Lady Mary Wortley. His mother and she lied been antagonists and enemies before he was born— “Car tout eat recipreque," says La Bruyere. We see how Lady .Mary represented Lady Walpole, :raid mac y. take it fur granted that Lady Walpole did not love or spare Lady Mary ; and if they continued to keep up the outward forms ef ;lulu rintaneeship, whielt of coarse brought them often into contact, they would naturally hate each other all the more.

Mr. Walpole's affection for his mother Was so much the most amiable point in his character, and his expressions whenever he names or alludes to her are so touching. come so directly and evidently from the heart, that one would very fain think of her as be did, and believe she had every perfection his partiality as- signs to her. I3ut, in truth, there was a contrary version of the matter, not resting solely, nor yet principally, upon the authority of Laity Mary Worder. It fulled so prominent a place in the scandalous history of rile time. that the world knew as well which way- Captain Lemuel Gulliver was glancing when gravely vindicating the reputation of my Lord Maven?. Flinanap's excellent lady, as what he meant by the red, green, and blue girdles of the Litliptxian grandees, in the said FlinailiVs feats of :agility on the tight-rope. hose ironi- cal lines also, where Pope says that Sir Robert Walpole

II3,11:over mole a friend in Trivet.. life,

And was besides:a tyraxt to hig reifr."

are equally well understood as cons-eying a sly allusion to his good-humoured ituconcern about some things which more strait.laer 1 1.u,bands do not take so

coolly. openly latighir.g at their nicety, lie prale,sial it I:is method " I.e go his own wire, and it 11 Han, go bergs" III a word, Iforace Walpole hinise'lf was generally suppesed to be the son of Carr Lord Hervey, anil Sir Hobert not to he ignorant of it. ( Inc sir it:Mg circumstance was visible to tie naked eve; no beings iu human shape could referrable each other less thin the two pts,ing for father and sun; arol, while their rerer.m of personal liketu,s provoked a eiiilics.os whisper, Sir itebert's marhed liegket Of Horace in his infancy tended ta confirm it. A ionsiber 1,f children, young Wallaile one, were accustomed to meet and play together. s:tteli of them as, -like Liniself, lived ter grow old, all united in declaring that no Irt!ler boy with:n their 1i:row:edge Was left so entirely in the hauls t his mother, or seemed te have so little acquaintance with his fattier • the fact being, that Sir Robert Walpole t b .00.. :II1V 11.Itiee IS Win, till his proficiency it Eton school, ache i a Lai of same r!re.-.v his

attention, and proved that, whether he had or bal Ira aright to the Miele be trout by, lie was likely to do it honour.

Though. in all probability, Lord Orford never suspected that gels struht hung over his own birth, yet the mortifications of his youth on his mother's account could not hut be severe ; bar, as she lived till he reached inahhowl, Le noise have known bow completely she was overlooked and disregarded, though not ill treated be her husbesid ; and, before his tears for her less were dried, he had the pang rat seeing Bliss Skerritt, tl:e rival she hated, installed in her place. That Lady Mary \\*Loney had been the chief friend and protectress of his stepmother, was uluuc enough to make hint bitter against lax. In asother in- stance, we must allow, he showed true generosity of mile!. When Sir Hobert Walpole, not content with publicly owning iii, natural ilauglder by Miss Sher- ritt, stretched his credit with the crown to the extent of obtaining for her a rank and title till then never conferred on the illegitimate resin 'rig of arty man but a prince, his son Horace, instcul of murmuring at it. ur yaws mg her with an evil eye, frankly opened his arms to her as a sister, and so called acrd consi- dered her the rest of his life.

Turning to more serious matters, let us take Lady NIAast's opinion upon a subject about which much has been written pro and con, both in jest and earnest—whether women should be learned or not.

I will therefore speak to you as supposing Lady Mary not orrly capable but

desirous of learning; in that case, by all means let her be it m it. You will tell me I did nut make it a part of your education: your prospect was very different fromhers. A

bers. s you L a! much in your eircumstatwes to attract the highest offers, it seemed your busiuess to learn how to live in the world, as it is hers to know how to be easy out of it. It is the common error of builder* and parents to follow some plan they think beautiful (sod perhaps is so), with-, out considering that nothing is beautiful which is displaced. Hence we see so many edifices raised that the raisers can never inhabit, being too large for their tut tunes. Vistas ate laid open over barren heaths, and apartments contrived for a coolness very agreeable in Italy, but killing iu the north of Britain : thus every woman endeavours to breed her daughter a fine lady, qualifying her for a station in which she will never appear, and at the same time incapacitating her for that retirement to which site is destined. Learning, if she has a real taste for it, will not only make her contented, but happy iu it. No entertain- ment is so cheap as reading, nor any pleasure so lasting. She will nut want new fashions, nor regret the loss of expensive diversions or variety of company, if she can be aroused with an author in her closet. To lender this amusement complete, she should be permitted to learn the languages. 1 have beard it lamented that boys lose so many years in mere learning of words; this is no objection to a girl, whose time is not so precious: she cannot advance herself in any profession, and has therefore more hours to spare ; and as you say her

memory is good, she will be very agreeably employed in this way. There are two cautions to be given on this subject : first, not to think herself learned wht n she can read Latin, or even Greek. Languages are more properly to be called vehicles of learning than leaning itself, as may be observed in many school- masters, who, though perhaps critics in grammar, are the most ignorant fellows upon earth. True knowledge consists in knowing things, not words. I would no farther wish her a linguist than to enable her to read books in their ori . ginals, that are often corrupted, and are always injured by translations. Two hours' application every morning will bring this about much sooner than yriu can imagine, and she will have leieure enough beside to run over the English poetry, which is a more important part of a woman's education than it is gene- rally supposed. Many a young damsel has been ruined by a fine copy of verses, which she would have laughed at if she had known it had been stolen from Mr. Waller. I remember, when I was a girl, I saved one of my companions from destruction, who communicated to me an epistle she was quite charmed with. As she had naturally a good taste, she observed the lines were not so smooth as Prior's or Pope's, but had more thought and spirit than any of theirs. She was wonderfully delighted with such a demonstration of her lover's sense and passion, and not a little pleased with her own charms, that had force enough to inspire such elegancies. In the midst of this triumph, 1 showed her they were taken from Randolph's poems ; and the unfortunate transcriber was dismis-ed with the scorn he deserved. To say truth, the poor plagiary was very unlucky to fall into my hands: that author being no longer in fashion, would have escaped any one cf less universal reading than myself. You should encourage your daughter to talk over with you what she reads; and as you are very capable of distinguishing, take care she does not mistake pert folly for wit arid humour, or rhyme for poetry, which are the common errors of young people, and have a train of ill consequences. The second caution to be given her (and which is most absolutely necessary) is to conceal whatever leat ruing she attains, with as much solicitude as she would hide croolaelvess or lameness : the parade of it can only serve to draw on her the envy, nod consequently the most inveterate hatred of all he and she fools, which will certainly be at least three parts in four of her acquaintance. The use of knowledge in our sex, beside the amuse. ment of solitude, is to moderate the passions, and to learn to be contented with a small expense, which are the certain effects of a studious life.

There are many more topics which we could launch into did not their length forbid; so we must close our quotations with a few miscellaneous passages. To the numerous anecdotes of MARLBOROUGH'S control over his temper, here is an addition.

The Dutehess had still, at a great age, considerable remains of beauty, most expressive eyes, and the finest fair hair imaginable: the colour of which she said she had preserved unchanged by the constant use of honey-water—hardly such as perfumers now sell, for that has an unlucky aptitude to turn the hair gray. By this superb head of hair hung a tale, an instance of her wayward- ness and violence, which strange to say, she took particular pleasure in telling. None of her charms, when they were at their proudest height, had been so fondly prized by the poor Duke her husband. Therefere, one day, upon his offending her by some act of disobedience to her " strong sovereign will," the bright thought occurred, as she sate considering bow she could plague him most, that it would be a hearty vexation to see his favourite tresses cut off. Instantly the deed was done : she cropped them short, and laid them in an ante-chamber he must pass through to enter her apartment. But, to her cruel disappointment, he passed, entered, and repassed, calm enough to provoke a saint ; neither angry nor sorrowful, seemingly quite unconecioue both of his crime and his punishment. Concluding he must have overlooked the hair, slle ran to secure it. Lo! it hail vanielied ; and she remained in great perplexity the rest of the day. The next, as he continued silent, and her looking.glass spoke the change a nu ful one, she began for once to think she had done rather a foolish thing. Nothing more ever transpired upon the subject until after the fluke's death, when she found her beautiful ringlets carefully laid by in a cabinet where he kept whatever he held met precious ; and at this point of the story she regularly fell a crying.

TI1E LAST PRANK 01' TUE LAST 01' THE 31ONTAGI'S.

Before closing this notice of the attacks made upon Lady Mary, it will he as well to advert one in which Mi. Wortley has also borne his part. It has been

said that both of them behaved with harshness and severity towaids their son,

who was finally disinherited by his father. Some passages will he found in some of the letters—now frr the first time published—that will show the pain

which that son inflicted upon his parents by Ida misconduct ; and it was not

until a conviction of his being irreclaimable was forced upon Mr. Wortley, that he adopted the severe measure of depriving Lim, sss by his will, of the suc- cession to the family estate. But even this step was not taken without a sufficient provision being male for lint; and in the event of his having an heir legitimately born, the (ante was to return to that heir, to the exclusion of his sister Lady flute's children. This provision in Mr. Wortley's will be en- deavoured to take advantage of in a manner which is highly characteristic. 111r. Edward Wortley, early in life, was married in a way then not uncommati, namely, a Fleet marriage. With that wife lie did not live lung, and lie bad no issue. After his father's death he lived several years in Egypt ; and there is supposed to have professed the religion of Mallomet, and indulged in the plura• lity of wives permitted by that faith. In the year 1776, Mr. E. Wortley, then living at Venice, his wife being dead, through the agency (as is supposed) of his fi iend Romney the painter, caused an advertisement to be inserted in the Public Adrertiser of April 16th in that year, in the following words. " A gentleman, who has filled two successive seats in Parliaments, is nearly sixty year.: of age, lives in great splendour' and hospitality. and front whom a considerable estate must pass if he dies without issue, hath no objection to marry a widow or single lady, provided the party be of genteel birth, polite manners, and is five or six mouths gone in her pregnancy. Letters directed to — Breeknock, Esq., at Will's Coffee house, will be honoured with due attention, secrecy, and every mark of respect."

It has always been believed in the family that this advertisement was suc- cessful, and that a woman having the qualifications required by it was actually sent to Paris to meet Mr. E. Wortley, who got as far as Lyons on his way thither. There, however, while eating a bee:diva for supper, a bone stuck in his throat, and occasioned his death; thus putting an end to this honest scheme.

Gallantly excepting all living literary ladies, Lady MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU must be assigned the first place amongst British female writers, whilst she leaves at a vast distance many male pretenders to that character, and may compete with any foreigner save Madame DE STAEL. Combining the intuitive sa- gacity of her sex with a masculine sense and solidity of judgment, she was not only able to form a true practical opinion upon persons and things according to the standards of her age, but, disregard- ing mere temporary notions, to penetrate very much deeper, and

deduce conclusions universally true. As a wit she rivalled any

• " ilighly.creste41 pride, Strong sovereign will, sad sonic desire to chide." Proirmr.'s Rise rf Werner. of her contemporaries, not forgetting that amongst them were ADDISON, POPE, and SWIFT; and by wit we do not mean the wretched after-dinner jests which pass as such with the ad- mirers of COLMAN, HOOK, and HORACE Twiss, nor even the power of " bringing remote ideas happily together," but the faculty of condensing the essence of a subject into a brilliant or happy sen- tence—at once flashing a conclusion on the mind and imprinting it on the memory. She equally excelled as a social satirist ; and some of her ballads and shorter pieces may be ranked amongst the first in that class of writing. For any loftier flight she was defi- cient in imagination and strength of pinion : even of the "Town Eclogues "—her longest and most ambitious poetical work inform, though not in subject—it is difficult to say for how much she was indebted to POPE; the best of them have often been included in his works.

In her moral theories Lady MARY was a narrow Utilitarian; and did not rise above her age, which was as coarse and worldly in its notions as may be. The existence of honour or principle in men, she seems to have doubted ; the chastity of women, she ap- pears to have considered a matter of constitution; the power of subduing our mental passions or fleshly appetites by the efforts of a disciplined will, she would have denied; and any attempt to attain it she would have ridiculed. For the plainness of her speech no excuse need be offered : the expressions of her time may offend delicacy, but not decency ; and late examples have taught us that licentious and libidinous ideas may be conveyed in the most guarded language. And, for the earthy notions of the people of that period, -this at least may be said, that they did net deck them out in the tinsel of sickly sentiment, nor try to debauch the youthful and unthinking mind under the pretence of inculcat- ing a "strait-laced" morality. They called things by their right names, and had not the morbid moral perception which exalts a discarded strumpet into the dignity of a distressed heroine.

Till age had sobered her, and circumstances withdrawn her from the world, MARY Moxrsou exhibited little wisdom in her ennduct. Her beauty, her fascinations, and her wit, of ne- cessity made her many rivals, which her quickness of temper and sarcasm exasperated into enemies and these were joined by a numerous class of fools and coxcombs, " hit, or fearing to be hit." Her impropriety of conduct was the theme of fashionable scandal ; and WALPOLE loses no opportunity of holding her up as an abandoned woman, whose infidelities were to be taken for

granted, the gallant and not the gallantry being the only point

worthy of inquiry. But POPE, after making a charge too gross to repeat, somewhat meanly shuffled out of it, and contented him-

self afterwards with insinuations. In the appendix to the pre-

sent volume, a number of letters are published in reference to WALPOT.E'S account of " Lady Mary's villany,' in trying to cheat a French lover out of If 000/.; which seem conclusive enough as an answer to the cheating, but serve to show, at all events, that in matters of gallantry she did not act up to her own line,

" He comes too near, who comes to be denied."

Her mixture of personal dirt and finery, as it is a more patent matter, seems too well supported to be doubted. The effect of the " foulness," " paint," and " plaster," of WALeoLe's descrip- tion may be exaggerated, but the Acts themselves could hardly be invented : and there are the double allusions of the satirist in confirmation- " You laugh, if coat and breeches strangely vary,

White gloves, and linen worthy Lady Mary.

Agrees as ill with Hula studying Locke As Sappho's diamonds with her dirty smock, Or Sappho at her toilet's greasy task With Sappho fragrant at an evenino. mask So morning insects, that in muck begun, Shine, buzz, and fly-blow, in the setting sun."

Another charge that WaLeoLit delights to bring against his mother's enemy, is pecuniary dishonesty ; for which there seems no grounds. That, however, she had a due idea of the value of money is undoubted ; and this, very likely, might grow to avarice in age. In her love-letters, previous to marriage, she weighs the matter of pounds, shillings, and pence, not improperly, doubtless, but with a prudence remarkable at her time of lite. As a young married woman, she harps upon the same string ; the example of her husband, who, having suffered through his father, had a great dread of pecuniary difficulties, would naturally encourage the feeling; and the vicious extravagance of their son would not tend to repress it; so that it is probable the charge of the acquisitive disposition both of husband and wife may be true, though not to the extent exhibited in POPE'S picture- " Avidien or his wife, (no matter which, For him you call a dog, and her a b—,)

Sell their presented partridges and fruits, And humbly live on rabbits and on reeds :

One half pint bottle serves them both to dine,

And is at once their vinegar and wine : But on somelucky day, (us when they found

A lost bank-bill, or beard their son was drown d,)

At such a feast, old vinegar to spare, Is what two souls so generous cannot bear : Oil, though it stink, they drop by drop impart, But souse the cabbage with a bounteous heart."

After all the charges that have been brought and the rumours that have been whispered against Lady MARY WORTLEY MON. TAGU, it must be said that she carefully fulfilled the duties of a mother, and so managed her husband—a man of sense and pene- tration, and of whom she stood in some awe—as to be regarded by him with con- deratim and re-tact to the last. Various con- jectures wire twee when they separated, on her Ladyship's with- drawal from England, and some are hazarded in the Introductory Anecdotes ; but to us there seems a sufficient reason in the char racier of the parties. At fifty, the charms which carried off the caprices and airs of a quick-tempered beauty, must have been de- cayed; and when approaching sixty, the peculiarities of disposi- tion and singular opinions of Mr. WORTLEY had not got softened, we may be sure. Never very well adapted for each other,—having reached a period of life when the passions are subdued,—having seen their daughter settled, (their son had long since settled him- self,) and finding that they were ill at ease together,—what more likely than that they should part, as the best means of procuring quiet and preserving friendship ?