SPECTATOR'S LIBRARY.

EPISTOLARY CORRESPONDENCE,

George Selwyn and his Contemporaries; with Memoirs and Notes. By John He- neage Jesse, Author of " Memoirs of the Court of England during the Reign of the Stuarts," &e. &c. Vols. I. II. Bentley.

TRAVELS,

Letters from the Pyrenees during three months' Pedestrian Wanderings amidst the wildest scenes of the French and Spanish Mountains, iu the Summer of 1892. By T. Clifton Paris, B.A., Trinity College, Cambridge. With Sketches by the

Author, taken on the spot Murray.

STATISTICS,

The Progress of the Nation, in its various Social and Economical Relations, from the beginning of the Nineteenth Century to the present time. By G. R. Porter. Esq., F.R.S., sections V. to VIII.—Cousumptiou, Accumulation, Moral Progress, Co- lonial aud Foreign Dependencies Knight and Co.

GEORGE SELWYN AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES.

GEORGE SELWYN, a wit and conversationist of the last century, was born in 1719, and died in 1791, after leading the life of a gen- tleman and man of fashion in London and Paris. He was educated at Eton and Oxford ; but was expelled from the University, for a blasphemous burlesque of the Lord's Supper when drunk at a tavern. Through family interest he became a Member of Par- liament in 1747 ; and, his elder brother having died, he succeeded to the family estates and borough in 1751. Besides this property, he held various sinecure offices ; but, till age deadened his love of excitement, he appears to have been in frequent straits, from play and imprudent expenditure. The first letters preserved relate to his college debts, which his father paid ; his earlier correspondence from Paris, seemingly to his father's man of business, is full of requests for advances, and complaint of want of means, even down to linen ; and throughout there are indications of temporary pres- sure. So well was his weakness known, that his best friends are continually urging him to abandon play, especially as he had no skill and was the dupe of sharpers. These weaknesses, and pro- bably the unlucky expulsion, put him in bad odour with his family ; whilst his conversational powers, wit, and good-nature, made him a favourite with all the world. It is easy to trace these family differences in the correspondence, but it is clear from the remark of the too notorious Lady TOWNSHEND having offended her by some banter, she flew into a passion, and among other reproaches, declared she " now believed all his father and mother said of him."

Though a Member of the House of Commons for a considerable part of his life, GEORGE SELWYN had no turn for oratory ; author- ship he never attempted beyond a single epigram ; and his letters in the present volumes are not equal to some of less preserved names. He lives chiefly in the jest-book ; and there his wit is not of the highest kind,—distinguished rather for punning pleasantry and well-timed aptness than either for depth or comprehension. Judg- ing from the frequent commissions he was charged with by friends, his taste in dress and articles of vertu must have been first-rate ; but in the slender memorials we have encountered we find little traces of critical power, or, more properly speaking, none at all. In short, he is one of the most striking examples of a man who has achieved a public reputation without appealing to the public in any way—either by Parliament, the stage, or the press, or connexion with any kind of principle. But " to do best that which numbers are trying to do, is no small merit " ; and he who excels as a man of pleasantry, fashion, taste, and talk, has the same right to reputation as other men of action : like them, he gains his fame by the impression he makes on his contemporaries.

Among the peculiarities of SELWYN which attracted attention, were his love of children and his morbid taste to see death or the dead. Not an execution escaped him, and he is said to have made a journey to Paris to see DAMIEN broken on the wheel. This last propensity was the subject of many a joke among his intimates ; of which the first Lord HoLLAxo's was the best. When on his deathbed, be was told that SELWYN had called to inquire after him : " The next time Mr. Selwyn calls," said he, "show him up : if I am alive I shall be delighted to see him, and if I am dead he will be glad to see me."

The sexual morality of SELWYN appears to have been rather correct for his day ; but less from principle than temperament, as he was the intimate friend of several libertines, including the profligate Earl of MARCH, better known as the Duke of QUEENSBERRY, who only escaped the infamy of the late Marquis of HERTFORD by escaping the palsy. In fact, SELWYN used to attend to the mistresses in the absence of the Earl, and even procure their curiosities from Paris ; a trait of the age, and of the morals of the aristocracy, rather than of the man. Late in life, he adopted the reputed daughter of the Marquis and Marchioness FAGNIAISI ; to whom he bequeathed 33,0001., and whom scandal says he looked upon as his daughter. The old debauchee the Duke of QUEENSBERRY had a similar notion, and left her 150,0001., besides the residue of his property to her husband, Lord YARMOUTH, subsequently Marquis of HERTFORD. Mr. JESSE, who has had access to SELWYN'S private papers, says both SELWYN and the Duke thought themselves the father, but that there are still doubts as to the young lady's paternity. Though SELWYN has given rise to these remarks and the title of the book before us, his " Contemporaries " are more predominant than himself. By means which are not explained, Mr. JESSE has had the correspondence and papers of GEORGE SELWYN placed at his disposal, from which a great part of this work is selected. It appears to have been SELWYN'S habit to " preserve not only every letter addressed to him by his correspondents, but also the most trifling notes and unimportant memoranda" ; a care, however, which rarely extended to preserving copies of his own letters. Hence the bulk of the correspondence, in these volumes, consists of letters written to SELWYN not by him; and as each writer is chro- nologically introduced, Mr. JESSE gives a notice of his life, brief or not, according to his materials. Names and events occurring in

the letters are also illustrated, sometimes foot-notes, sometimes by a sort of article in the text ; and a memoir of SELWYN opens the work. The correspondence commences in 1740, and comes down to 1770; leaving upwards of twenty years a blank, unless the publi- cation is to be continued—and we assume this to be the case.

The persons noticed are mostly of that class which we like to learn something about,—illustrious obscure, sufficiently conspicuous in their own day by birth, fortune, fashion, or some mental quality to cause their names to be currently mentioned by contemporaries, or their faces put into print by means of engraving, but not of import- ance enough to force their way into biographical collections. HORACE WALPOLE, of course, is not of this class, and Mr. JESSE might have dis- pensed with that notice. Fox, the founder of the HoLLAND family, ought not to he, but yet he is to many readers ; and the gossipy account of him and his predecessors is pleasant. The notices of SANDWICH, the libertine protege of GEORGE the Third—GILLT WIL- LIAMS, who was said to be a wit in his day, though nothing has been preserved—Sir HANBURY WILLIAMS, the political and poetical satirist or lampooner—the TOWNSHEND and ST. JOHN families—the Duke of QUEENSBERRY, and many others of less note—are all acquisitions. They have not only an anecdotical interest in them- selves, but give people what they are curious to learn and know not very easily where to find. Some of the persons, indeed, are too obscure, and the notices too bald and jejune, especially in the foot- notes,—calling off attention without rewarding it, and reading somewhat like the perusal of a dictionary : but too much, in a case of this kind, is better than too little.

The matter of the letters is not very attractive : here and there an interesting anecdote, or a picture of the times, or some agree- able pleasantry, whilst in a few epistles of Lord HOLLAND'S and some relating to SELWYN'S affairs, there is a biographical cha- racter : but, speaking of the whole, the matter is trivial—the matter of the fine gentleman.

The manner is very good, and conveys a favourable impression of the style of the " men of wit and pleasure about town" of that day. It wants the point and terseness of professed authors, but it is also free from their effort and artifice, and is equally free from the lumbering formality and dryness conspicuous in the letters of statesmen and men of business of that and the preceding age. All is natural, easy, and airy ; though GILLY Wu.LIAMs sometimes aims at smartness without getting further than verbal turns. The women, too, write very well ; much better, indeed, than might be looked for at a time when female education was generally neglected. Their views are sensible, and their style unlaboured. The following, from Lady Susex HAMILTON, the youngest daughter of the Duke of HAMILTON, who was killed in 1712 in the celebrated duel with Lord Manorr, relates to SELWYN'S University expulsion, and indi- cates the terms he was on with his family.

" LADY SUSAN KECK TO GEORGE SELWYN.

" 28th August 1745. " I wish I could deserve your thanks by doing you some good, but I can do nothing but think and say you deserve it. I have often had a great mind to have become advocate and evidence for you to your father. Women, you know, like poets, have liberties allowed them, and I would use them to the utmost of my power in your service ; but pray let me have a line to say whether you think it could do you any injury, for I would fain have you part in peace. " I have got a pain and weakness in my hand, which makes me write even more in cipher than usual; but, to confess the truth, 1 never could write. I was at your just town of Oxford some days ago, and I believe you have carrried everybody with you from thence, for there was hardly a gown to be seen. I hope all breaches will be made up before you go abroad; I mean, where it is essential. I really am in your interest, and am solicitous about it, which makes me forward to engage as many in your favour as I can ; and as I am a useless being, and removed from all opportunities even to try doing good, I applied to Lady Charlotte Edwin, who sees and is in favour with your father, to do you all the kind offices she could. I told your story as well as I was enabled, and I joined my entreaties to Mr. Selwyn for you : she promised me to say all in her power, and I hope she will ; I wish it may be attended with success. " I could have sworn to the paper you wrote on to me last. I believe there is something in it that it cannot bear nonsense which most people write, and none more than me : do you think my friend will get me a cargo of it, for her own sake and my honour ? Mr. Keck begs you will accept of his compliments and believe me, I am your obedient humble servant, SUSAN KECK. " P.S. I cannot help casting my eyes on that part of your letter where you seem to think the people of Oxford had principles : this really astonishes me, for you must know that they never had any, moral or divine : party only governs."

Perhaps it is not greatly different now at the Universities and other places.

The notoriety at present attending the TOWNSHEND family may give some interest to the following sketch of the father of the present Marquis.

" George, afterwards first Marquis Townsbend, was the eldest son of Charles third Viscount Townsbend, by Audrey Harrison, celebrated for her wit and eccentricities; which qualities descended to the subject of this memoir, in common with his gifted brother Charles Townsbend. He was born on the 28th February 1723 ; and at this period was Aide-de-camp to the Duke of Cumber- land, under whom be had recently fought at the battle of Culloden. He was present at the battles of Dettingen and Fontenoy ; was third in command of the expedition against Quebec; and at the close of the celebrated engagement on the heights aoove that town, (in consequence of Wolfe having been killed and General Monckton severely wounded,) found himself first in command. He was subsequently engaged at Fellinghausen, and employed on other mili- tary services. He represented the county of Norfolk in Parliament from 1747 to 1764; in 1767 he was appointed Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland; in 1772 Master-General of the Ordnance; and in 1787 was raised to the rank of Mar- quis. To the more trifling accomplishments of social wit and of being an ex- cellent caricaturist be joined the qualities of an able general and a powerful orator. Of his wit but few specimens have been handed down to us. When Harcourt as Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, the latter, on his lor; soddenly disturbed him, at three o'clock in the morning, at sarufiTiedaeta Dudb7:y with some chosen friends. Lord Townshend, in no de gre 1;umouredly congratulated his successor. ' Your Lordship,' he hee drinkine -;,'c'ertainl come among us rather unexpectedly, but you must admit not find us napping.' Again, after he had quarrelled with the sbsshedou"did no g 's re e'r u • !,aid..kej of Cumberland, (whose personal peculiarities he was in the habit of caricaturing,) one of the Duke's friends observing him at a review, where his presence was far from acceptable, remarked, ' How is it that you honour us with your presence today ? I suppose you are merely a spectator?' And why,' retorted Lord Townshend, may one not come here as a Spectator, Sir, as well as a Tatler I" Lord Townshend died on the 14th September 1807, at the age of eighty-four."

The following letter, from Lord MARCH to SELWYN, relates to what Mr. THESIGER, in his defence of M. SUISSE, called "delicate affairs." The opera-girl alluded to was ZAMPARINI, a singer and dancer; the RENA was an Italian, who had been living at Paris some time on an allowance.

" 17th November. 11766.3

"My dear George—The muff you sent me by the Duke of Richmond 1 like prodigiously ; vastly better than if it had been tigre, or of any glaring colour ; several are now making after it. I send you by this post full directions about all my commissions, as I quite despair of coming to you. I wish I had set out immediately after Newmarket ; which I believe I should have done if I had not taken a violent fancy for one of the opera-girls. This passion is a little abated ; and I hope it will be quite so before you and the Rena come over, else I fear it will interrupt our society. But whatever is the case, as I have a real friendship and affection for the Rena, I shall show her every mark of regard and consideration, and be vastly happy to see her. I consider her as a friend, and certainly as one that I love very much ; and as such, 1 hope she will have some indulgence for my follies. A contrary behaviour will only separate us entirely ; which 1 should be sorry for, and upon the footing that we have lived for some time past it would be quite ridiculous and affected. You may talk to her a little about this at a distance.

" I spoke to the Duke of Grafton about your being in France, and I will take an opportunity of saying something about it to him again, only to show your attention as to the Parliament. This moment my servant brings me your letter by Le Rui. I will inquire for a lodging for the Rena; for I agree with you entirely that you have no room for her in your house, and it is as well i to avoid all the nonsense that would be said about it. I shall have every thing in readiness, that she may immediately go to her own hotel, for she certainly cannot come either to yours or mine. &c. &c." This extract continues the same subject ; which seems to have caused the Peer as much anxiety as he could feel- " Yon see what a situation I am in with my little Buffs. She is the pret- tiest creature that ever was seen : in short, I like her vastly, and she likes me, because I give her money. I wish I had never met with her, because I should then have been at Paris with you, where I am sure I should have been much happier than 1 have been here. As to the little Tondino's coming, I should wish it vastly, if I thought she would like it ; but I am persuaded she diverts herself much better where she is than she would here.

" The Zamparini has a father, mother, and sister ; but they all like their own diet [seasoned with garlic] better than any thing else, so that we dine very little together. They sometimes dine here, but not often ; and we shall there- fore have our dinners as usual, though perhaps not quite so frequently. I have had a letter from the Tondino today. She tells me that she never passed her time so well at Paris as she does now : 'Monsieur du Barri est un homme charmant, et nous donnes des bals avec des Princesses.' Pray, my dear .George, find out something that will be agreeable to the little Teresina. Consult the Rena about it : one jolie robe, or any thing else she likes; and let her have it from me pour la nouvelle anode. I would send her something from here, but you will be able to get her something that will please her better where you are. "I shall write two or three words to the Rena by this post. I told her, in my last letter, that I was supposed to be very much in love with the Zampa- rini, certainly would not prevent me from being very happy to see her. Our attachment as lovers has been long at an end ; and when people live at as great a distance as we have done for some time past, it is ridiculous to think of it ; but I have really the greatest friendship and regard for her—more than I have for anybody in the world except yourself, and there is nothing I would not do for her. i have been too long accustomed to live with her not to like her, or to be able to forget her ; and there is nothing that would give me more pain than not to be able to live with her upon a footing of great intimacy and friendship; but I am always afraid of every event where women are concerned, they are all so exceedingly wrong-headed."

The Earl of MARCH, however, comes out better in the following. It will be remembered his enormous wealth in after years was derived from the Queensberry estates : be seems at this time to have been often embarrassed after ill-luck at Newmarket.

" Sunday morning [17O.] " When I came home last night, I found your letter on my table. So you have lost a thousand pounds ; which you have done twenty times in your life- time, and won it again as often ; and why should not the same thing happen again ? I make no doubt that it will. I am sorry, however, that you have lost your money : it is unpleasant. In the mean time, what the devil signify le fable de Paris or the nonsense of White's ? You may be sure they will be glad you have lost your money ; not because they dislike you, but because they like to laugh. They shall certainly not have that pleasure from me, for I will even deny that I know any thing of it.

" AS to your banker, I will call there tomorrow ; make yourself easy about that, for I have three thousand pounds now at Contts's. There will be no bankruptcy without we are both ruined at the same time. You may be very sure all this will soon be known here, since everybody knows it at Paris ; but if you come as soon as you intend, perhaps you may be here first. All that signifies nothing ; the disagreeable part is having lost your money : Almack's or White's will bring all back again.

" How can you think, my dear George, and I hope you do not think, that anybody or any thing can make a tracasserie between you and me? I take it ill that you even talk of it; which you do in the letter I had by Ligonier. I must be the poorest creature upon earth, after having known you so long, and always as the best and sincerest friend that any one ever had, if any one alive can make any impression upon me when you are concerned. I told you, in a letter I wrote some time ago, that 1 depended more upon the continuance of our friendship than any thing else in the world ; which I certainly do, because I have so many reasons to know you, and I am sure I know myself."

The best, though not the liveliest writer in the volume, is Lord HOLLAND. There is variety of subject, more solid matter, and deeper thought arising from habitual thinking, in his letters, than in any of the others. They throw a glimmering light, too, upon the politics of the period, and have a biographical character in the exhibition of his on feelings. There is something almost touching in the old politician's opening allusion to his lost friendships in the following epistle. The CHARLES mentioned is the celebrated CHARLES JAMES Fox ; the "old string" is SELWYN'S habit of play ; the Rion is "the blushing Rigby" of Junes, whose desertion and ingratitude deeply affected Lord HOLLAND.

" Naples. 2d December. [I769.]

"Dear Selwyn—You are much mistaken if you think I intended to quarrel with you. I have lost too many friendships, which I had spent my life in de• serving, to fling away one that, without my having ever deserved it, is so sin- cere and valuable as yours. I really did not know what to say, and if I had written I was afraid I should harp upon the old string, and perhaps too harshly; but I did send you a message in Charles's last, and repeat, that I hope you will not recover your acquaintance with Affligio, Renee, &c., through or with Lord Carlisle. As to my health, which you so kindly inquire after, I certainly am better: no swelled legs; no symptom of dropsy or of asthma : but it is too late to think of recovering what is worthy to be called health, at sixty- two ; and there is one question which, I hope, will not be asked- . Has life no sourness, drawn so near its end?'

Indeed it has ; yet I guard against it as much as possible, and am weak enough sometimes to think, that if Rigby chiefly and some others had pleased, I should have walked down the vale of years more easily. But it is weak in me to think so often as I do of Rigby, and you will be ashamed of me.

" We are all determined to get you something out of Herculaneum, if pos- sible. They tell us it will be difficult, but we have long learned not to believe a word they say. The Marquis of Kildare gives his service to you. The Principessas, and they are all Principessas here, have fourteen or fifteen chil- dren a-piece; yet Lady Caroline's friend, a relation of Madams de Guerchy's, told her last night, qu'elle n'a pas vouln se mettre a, la mode de ce pais-ci, and would have but two : everybody in their way, you see. You, I believe, are in no great danger of such inconvenience. 1 heartily hope you will meet with no other, nor any thing but what is pleasant and agreeable; and, if I did not know it would be a vain wish, I would wish you a companion as agreeable as yourself. Adieu!

"Yours ever most affectionately, HOLLAND."

Perhaps the best letter, all things considered, is this epistle of a country baronet, Sir ROBERT SMYTEC. The subject is trivial in itself, yet is so treated as to possess humour, solidity, and images, with a neat turn in the closing compliment.

Winchester, 12th April 1767. " Dear Sir—Dr. Thistlewaite is dead, and since he has no further use for his horses, they are to be sold by auction. " Among them is a little bay gelding, about thirteen or fourteen hands high, with a flaming, full, long tail; strong enough to carry you, the mayor, and all the money you ever spent [in elections] at Gloucester together. The doctor (some eight and forty stone weight) always shot off his back, and the keeper killed all the deer from him. I mention these circumstances as proofs of his sedateness. He goes fast enough to carry you close to fox-bounds in full chase ; but if your affairs do not require so much expedition, a snail would distance him. His figure is such, that if you were to meet a tailor on his back you would pall off your hat to him, though you did not owe him one shilling. I know twenty men of weight who want him, but the weight of metal will have him. He is six years old, and cost five pounds. Peter Bathurst will bid fifteen or twenty for him, and perhaps others may bid more. Some one wlll buy him who perhaps may be wise enough to think that five or six guineas, on a point of health, pleasure, and safety, are not absolutely thrown away. "I only mean, by this long story, to convince you that I have not forgot the commission you gave me. if you will have him at all hazards and any price, he shall be bought for you. If you do not choose to risk an opposition, I can only wish you may never meet with one to any object you may have in view.