LETTER XVII.

MR. GRAY TO DR. WHARTON.

Feb. 2, Pembroke Coll. 1771.

IT never rains but it pours, my dear Doctor, you will be glad to hear, that Mr. Brown has added to his mastership (which is better than £150 a year) a living hard by Cambridge, Stretham in the isle of Ely, worth, as it was let above forty years ago, at least £240 more. It was in the gift of the crown during the vacancy of the See of Ely, and that its value is really more than I have said, you will hardly doubt, when you hear it was carried against an Earl, a Baron, and a Bishop, the latter of the three so strenuous a suitor, that he still persisted above a week after I had seen the presentation signed to Mr. Brown by the King's own hand, nay, he still persisted a day, after the King had publicly declared in the Drawing-room, that he had given it to Mr. Brown by name. And who was this bishop? no other than your friend, who wanted it for a nephew of his, a poor unfortunate nephew, that had been so imprudent many a year ago to marry a farmer's daughter, where he boarded when Curate; and continued ever since under a cloud, because his uncle would give him nothing. As to us, we had a Duke, an Earl, a Viscount, and a Bishop, on our side, and carried it so swimmingly you would stare again. There was a prologue, and an exegesis, and a peripeteia, and all the parts of a regular drama; and the Hero is gone to London,

was instituted yesterday, and to-day is gone to Lambeth, for the Archbishop too spoke a good word for us, and at a very critical time. The old Lodge has got rid of all its harpsichords, and begins to brighten up: its inhabitant is lost like a mouse in an old cheese. He has received your generous offer of a benefaction to the common good, but it is too much to tax yourself: however, we all intend to bring in our mites, and shew the way to the high and mighty; when a fund is once on foot they will bestir themselves.

I am sincerely concerned to find Miss Wharton is still an invalid. I believe you must send her into the milder regions of the South, where the sun dispels all maladies. We ourselves have had an untoward season enough: vast quantities of rain instead of winter, the thermometer never below 40 degrees, often above 50, before Christmas; unusual high winds (which still continue), particularly the 19th of Dec. at night, it blew a dreadful storm. The first grain of snow was seen on Christmas day, of which we have had a good deal since, but never deep or lasting. The second week in January was really severe cold at London, and the Thames frozen over: one morning that week the glass stood here (at eight in the morning) at 16 degrees, which is the lowest I ever knew it at Cambridge. At London it never has been observed lower than 13, (understand me right, I mean 13 above Zero of Fahrenheit), and that was 5th Jan. 1739; now it is very mild again, but with very high winds at N. W.

I give you joy of our awkward peace with Spain. Mason is in town taking his swing, like a boy in breaking-up time. Remember me kindly to Mrs. Wharton, and all the good family. Did I tell you of my breaking-up, in Summer, in the midland counties; and so far as Abergavenny one way,

and Ludlow the other? I have another journal for you in several volumes. I have had a cough for above three months upon me, which is incurable. Adieu! LO GR

J

J

I am ever yours,

T. G.

1

MR. GRAY TO DR WHARTON.

DEAR DOCTOR,

I WAS really far from well in health, when I received your last letter: since that I am come to town and find myself considerably better. Mason has passed all the winter here with Stonehewer in Curzon-street, May-fair, but thinks of returning homeward in a week or ten days, he had your letter (which had gone round by Aston) and was applying to Mr. Fraser and others for proper recommendations in case poor * * * should be obliged to make use of them: but now you have given us some hopes, that these expedients may not be necessary. I for my own part do heartily wish you may not be deceived, and that so cool a tyrant as her husband seems to be, may willingly give up the thoughts of exercising that tyranny, when it is most in his power; but I own, it seems to me very unlikely: however, I would not have you instrumental (but at her most earnest entreaty) in placing her out of his reach. No persuasion or advice on this head should come from you: it should be

absolutely her own firm resolution (before sure witnesses) for that is the only thing, that can authorise you to assist her. It must have been her own fault (at least her weakness) that such a decision as that of these delegates could find any grounds to go upon. I do not wonder that such an event has discomposed you: it discomposed me to think of the trouble and expence it has brought upon you!

My* summer was intended to have been passed in Switzerland but I have dropped the thought of it, and believe my expeditions will terminate in Old Park: for travel I must, or cease to exist. Till this year I hardly knew what (mechanical) low spirits were: but now I even tremble at an East-wind; it is here the height of Summer, but with all the bloom and tender verdure of Spring. At Cambridge the laurustinus and arbutus killed totally; apricots, almonds, and figs lost all their young shoots. Stonehewer has had a melancholy journey: tomorrow we expect him here. Adieu!

I am ever yours,

At Frisby's, in Jermyn Street, St. James's, May 24, 1771.

T. G.

* Mr. Mason has joined this paragraph to that Letter of Mr. Gray's which is dated August 24, 1770; and has given the whole of that Letter the date of this paragraph. In what a singular manner he has altered the style of the concluding part of this Letter, may be seen by comparison. It is the last Letter in Mr. Mason's Work. [Ed. Mason, Vol. IV. p. 225. "I have had a cough upon me these three months, which is incurable. (This is the last sentence of the preceding Letter, which Mr. Mason has transferred to this place.) The approaching Summer I have sometimes had thoughts of spending on the Continent; but I have now dropped that intention, and believe my expeditions will terminate in Old Park: but I make no promise, and can answer for nothing. My own employment so sticks in my stomach, and troubles my conscience, and yet travel I must, or cease to exist. Till this year I hardly knew what (mechanical) low spirits were, but now I even tremble at an east-wind.]