own I have a wonderful delight in my nephew, whom I have, in a manner, brought up, I should be very absurd to expect other people should take more pleasure in my nephew than I do in their nephews; nor do I think the conversation of mixed society very good for children. Things are often thrown out in a careless imperfect manner, so as to be very dangerous to young minds; as indigested food fills the body, indigested opinions do the mind, with crudities and flatulencies, and perhaps there is not any place where a young person could be in more danger of being hurt by society than at Paris. Till I had conversed so intimately with the French I did not imagine they were so different from us in their opinions, sentiments, manners and modes of life as I find them. In every thing they seem to think perfection and excellence to be that which is at the greatest distance from simplicity. I verily believe that if they had the ambrosia of the gods served at their table they would perfume it, and they would make a ragout sauce to nectar; we know very well they would put rouge on the cheek of Hebe. If an orator here delivers a very highly adorned period he is clapt; at the academy where some verses were read, which were a translation of Homer, the more the translator deviated from the simplicity of Homer, the more loud the applause; at their tragedies an extravagant verse of the poets and an outrageous action of the actor is clapped. The Corinthian architecture is too plain, and they add ornaments of fancy. The fine Grecian forms of vases and tripods they say are triste, and therefore they adorn them. It would be very dangerous to inspire young persons with this contempt of simplicity before experience taught

choice or discretion. The business of the toillette is here brought to an art and a science. Whatever is supposed to add to the charm of society and conversation is cultivated with the utmost attention. That mode of life is thought most eligible that does not leave one moment vacant from amusement. That style of writing or conversation the best that is always the most brilliant. This kind of high colouring gives a splendour to every thing which is pleasing to a stranger who considers every object that presents itself as a sight and as a spectacle, but I think would grow painful if perpetual. I do not mean to say, that there are not some persons and some authors who, in their conversation and writings, have a noble simplicity, but in general there is too little of it. This taste of decoration makes every thing pretty, but leaves nothing great. I like my present way of life so well I should be glad to stay here two months longer, but to avoid the dangers of a winter sea and land journey I shall return, as I intended, the first week in October.

I had a very agreeable French lady to dine with me to-day, and am to dine with her at Versailles on Sunday. As she is a woman of the bed-chamber to the Queen, she was obliged (being now in waiting) to ask leave to come to me; the queen, with her leave, said something very gracious concerning the character of your humble servant. The French say so many civil things from the highest of them to the lowest, I am glad I did not come to Paris when I was young enough to have my head turned.

We are going to sup with a most charming Marquise de Dufants, who, being blind and upwards of four-score, is polite and gay, and I suppose we shall stay till after

midnight

midnight with her. I hope to contrive to get a peep at you in my journey through Kent.

Miss G desires her best compliments. I have sent you a copy of Voltaire's saucy letter on a translator of Shakspeare's appearing at Paris; he was very wrath. Mr. Le Tourneur, whom he abuses, is a very modest ingenious man. Voltaire is vexed that the French will see how he has often stolen from Shakspeare. I could have sent you some very pretty verses that were made on your humble servant and Miss G

; but

I think satire is always more poignant than praise, and the verses on us were high panegyric.

I am, Dear Madam,

Your most affectionate Sister and Friend,

and faithful humble Servant,

E. MONTAGU.

ART. XXI. BEN JONSON.

Oldys in his MSS. says, "what I have observed of Ben Jonson's being tutor to Sir Walter Raleigh's son Walter, in my life of Raleigh, should be somewhat corrected from Mr. Oldisworth's MS. as follows.

*

"Mr. Camden recommended him to Sir Walter Raleigh, who trusted him with the care and instruction of his eldest son Walter, a gay spark, † who could not brook Ben's rigorous treatment, but perceiving one foible in his disposition made use of that to throw off

Before his "History of the World," 1736. fol. clxxii.

This was the heroic son, who fell gloriously in his father's last unfortunate expedition.

the

the yoke of his government. And this was an unlucky habit Ben had contracted, through his love of jovial company, of being overtaken with liquor, which Sir Walter did of all vices most abominate, and hath most exclaimed against. One day, when Ben had taken a plentiful dose, and was fallen into a sound sleep, young Raleigh got a great basket, and a couple of men, who laid Ben in it, and then with a pole carried him between their shoulders to Sir Walter, telling him their young master had sent home his tutor."

"This I had, (says Oldys) from a MS. memorandum book written in the time of the civil wars by Mr. Oldisworth, who was Secretary, I think, to Philip Earl of Pembroke. Yet in the year 1614, when Sir Walter published his History of the World, there was a good understanding between him and Ben Jonson : for the verses, which explain the grave frontispiece before that history, were written by Jonson, and are reprinted in his " Underwoods," where the poem is called "the Mind of the frontispiece to a book;" but he names not this book."

*

Jonson was born 11th June 1574, and died 16th August, 1637, of a palsy. His father died about 1580, and his mother re-married a bricklayer.

He was very corpulent, and weighed within two pounds of twenty-two stone, as he says himself in his epistle to Mr. Arthur Squibb in his "Underwoods." +

"The first edition of his works was in 1616, one volume folio, pages 1015, imprinted by W. Stansby,

Query this date?

Whalley's edit. Vol. VI. p. 428.

entitled,

entitled, "The Workes of Ben Jonson." Another volume in folio was added 1631. Again with additions, 1692, folio, with a copper-print of him laureated, his cloak over one shoulder, and gloves in his right hand, engraved by Wm. Elder, the writingmaster, with Latin and English verses underneath. But the face is too smooth, not crabbed, but full enough. Mr. Vertue's print is much more like him. I have seen an original painting of him in the Cotton Library, but it is not done by a masterly hand. There is a painting of him in the picture-gallery at Oxford: and I have been told of a picture in Bricklayers' hall. A curious painting in miniature of his head in oil colours by Cornelius Jansen, and set in a gold frame or border, in possession of Mr. Collevous the painter, was sold by him for five guineas to Lord James Cavendish. There was an edition of Ben Jonson's works in 6 volumes, 8vo. with cuts.

"I do not perceive," adds Oldys, "that Langbaine had ever seen any of Ben Jonson's plays that were printed singly in his life-time, but two; and these are "The New Inn" and "Staple of News," both printed in different sizes in the year 1631. So that others of his which were printed separately seem greater rarities than Shakspeare's. The single copies might die the sooner by his publishing a folio volume in 1616 of all he had written.

"In Ben's" Execration upon Vulcan for suffering a fire to burn his MSS." printed in his "Underwoods" it appears, that among them was a history he had compiled of the reign of King Henry V. as far as eight of his nine years, in which he had the assistance of Sir Geo. Carew, Sir Robert Cotton, and Mr. Selden.

He