“This place is by no means full, but it contains much wealth. Colonel Clive, the Nabob maker (is not that almost as great a title as the famous Earl of Warwick’s?), lives at Westgate House, with all the Clives about him. He has sold his possessions in India to the East India Company for £30,000 per annum, a trifling sum, which he dedicates to the buying of land. In a time when property is so fluctuating, I think he may see himself possessor of the whole kingdom, should his distempers allow him a long life; but his health is bad, and he purposes, when peace is made, at latest, to show at Rome the richest man in Europe. He lives in little pomp; moderate in his table, and still more so in equipage and retinue.” Mrs. Scott now disappears for awhile, to make way for her more celebrated sister. CHAPTER V. The first letter of Mrs. Montagu’s in the hitherto unpublished series is addressed “To Mr. Robinson,” the writer’s brother. It is dated from “London, 28th of May, 1762.” Mr. Robinson was then residing at Naples, where his wife had recently given birth to a son. After the usual congratulations, Mrs. Montagu says: “I would have answered your letter the day after I received it, but was obliged to wait for the letter of recommendation to Mr. Pitt. Neither Lord Lyttelton or the Bishop of Carlisle are related to or acquainted with Mr. Pitt. Their sister married a distant cousin of Mr. George Pitt’s, and was parted from him, I believe, long before Mr. George Pitt was a man, and they have not ever had the least commerce with him.” After this explanation, the writer refers to the news of the day, and to one of the leading men of the time: “The Duke of Newcastle is about to resign his office and retire to the joys of private life. I am afraid he will find that the mind used to business does not find quiet in idleness. There is hardly a greater misfortune than to have the mind much accustomed to the tracasseries of the world. A country gentleman can amuse himself by angling in a trout-stream, or venturing his neck in a fox-chase; a studious man can enjoy his books in solitude, and, with tranquill pleasure, ‘woo lone quiet in her silent walk;’ but chiefs out of war and statesmen out of place, like all animals taken out of their proper climate, make a miserable affair of rural life. I dare say his Grace of Newcastle will fall to serpentizing rivers, and then wish himself again a fisher of men. Aurora may put on her finest robe to unbar the gates of Morn; he will still sigh that his folding doors are not open to a crowded levée. The notes of Philomel are not sweet to ears used to flattery; and what is the harvest home to a man used to collect the treasure of England? “The king has purchased Buckingham House, and is going to fit it up elegantly for his retired hours. Her majesty promises to give us an heir very soon. Princess Amelia has purchased Gunnersbury House. The Duke of Portland died about ten days ago, and the Duke of Manchester last week.