“I find no objection to large companies, except the want of society in them.... I have not the natural requisite for society—the love of cards.... I excuse myself from card-parties by saying I have a great dislike to sitting by a card-table, which no one can pretend is unreasonable; and I find nothing is so useful as asserting one’s liberty in these ceremonious points: it gives little offence, and without it, one may remain all one’s life the suffering slave of a painful civility.... I am glad, by-the-bye, there are such things as cards in the world; for otherwise one would be teazed by eternal conversation parties, which are terrible things. I seldom venture into a Sunday-night circle, and I quite disclaimed them a year before I left London. The principal speakers are always those to whom one is the least inclined to attend. Every day in the week would be as much taken up with these parties, if cards did not conquer even the love of talking.” Mrs. Montagu, a year before she acquired that name, had expressed her distaste for the flashy conversation of her time. In a letter to her sister Sarah, she describes one of the “talkers” with great vivacity. “Mr. B——’s wife put out her strength to be witty, and, in short, showed such a brilliant genius, that I turned about and asked who it was that was so willing to be ingenious; for she had endeavoured to go off two or three times, but had unhappily flashed in the pan.” In 1750, Mrs. Montagu and some other ladies attempted to reform manners, by having parties where cards could not be thought of, and where the mental power was freshest for conversation. In that year, 1750, there was a charming French lady taking notes amongst us. Madame du Bocage, in her “Letters on England, Holland, and Italy,” notices Mrs. Montagu; and from the notice may be learned, that the last-named lady was already giving entertainments of a nature to benefit society. While at the Duke of Richmond’s, as many as eighteen card-tables were “set for playing” in the gallery of his house near Whitehall, with supper and wine to follow, for the consolation of the half-ruined, and congratulation of the lucky, gamblers, Mrs. Montagu gave breakfasts. Madame du Bocage thus speaks of them and of the hostess: