Amongst the more important and less peaceful occupations which engaged the attention of the Duke and Duchess, the building of Blenheim formed one of the circumstances most obnoxious to his tranquillity of mind. The disputes, to which the management of this national gift gave rise, might occupy a volume; they must, however, remain to be discussed at a more advanced period of this work. But the erection of that superb habitation, which the Duke of Marlborough lived not to see completed, induced an acquaintance with one of the most versatile wits of the day, Sir John Vanburgh. The character and conduct of this distinguished dramatist and indifferent sculptor had no inconsiderable effect upon the tranquillity of the Duchess of Marlborough, with whose confidence this experienced man of the world was honoured. A very singular, and to both the writers a very discreditable correspondence, between the Duchess and Vanburgh, is preserved among the manuscript stores of the British Museum. Since it elucidates some passages of the Duchess’s domestic life, and unfolds some material points of character, a few extracts from this singular correspondence may not be uninteresting, more especially as the letters have never been introduced in any publication, either in their original form, or in substance. Before entering upon the occurrences to which it refers, a brief account of one of the parties is necessary. Sir John Vanburgh was descended from a family originally from Ghent; his grandfather, Gibes Vanburgh, or Vanburg, being obliged to fly from that city on account of the persecution of the Protestants. The father of Sir John Vanburgh became a sugar-baker in Chester, where he amassed a considerable fortune, and, removing to London, obtained the place of comptroller of the treasury chamber. His mother was Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Dudley Carleton of Ember Court, Surrey. The future dramatist and architect was one of eight sons, and was destined for the army. A love of desultory reading, and a youthful acquaintance with Congreve, led him, however, to the stage. So early as 1698, the youth, relinquishing a soldier’s life, produced two comedies, the “Relapse” and the “Provoked Wife;” both remarkable for the wit of their dialogue, and for the licentiousness of the sentiments.