"Where next shall famous Granville's ashes stand? Thy grandsire fills the sea and thou the land." Sir Bevil's son John was created Earl of Bath, but the title expired in the next generation, and the honors of this ennobled branch of the family were carried on by Grace, sister to John, Lord Bath, who married Lord Cartaret, and was created Countess Granville in her own right 1715. She figures largely in Mrs. Delany's letters as the "old Countess," and "the Dragon"; and from her the present families of Bath and Spencer are descended. But we are more immediately concerned with her first cousins, Lord Lansdowne the poet, and his brother, Colonel Bernard Granville, whose daughter Mary is the subject of this paper. Her "Life and Correspondence" have been given to the world by her. great-great-niece, Lady Llanover, in six fascinating large octavo volumes; but as few in these hurrying days lead lives of sufficient leisure to permit the luxury of reading so long a book, I hope that a slight sketch of it will not be wholly "impertinent," to use the word in the sense that Mrs. Delany herself would have done.

To one imbued with the spirit of these volumes, the present times do indeed appear sadly hurrying. Things have changed since Mrs. Delany, in the midst of a gay London life and a daily correspondence with her sister, found time for a series of autobiographical letters to her life-long friend, the Duchess of Portland, in which the personages mentioned are designated by fictitious names, the key to which was on a separate sheet of paper. She found time for a thousand and one such thoughtful contrivances, many of them, it must be confessed, wholly useless; but, nevertheless, worthy of a regretful sigh in these days of rushing through books, when we are so far from exercising any thought, that to speak of the "former" and the "latter" is enough to upset the calculations of the ordinary reader. The letters of those old days were written with a care and thought to which the penny post has made us strangers; the most trivial compliments of Mrs. Thrale and Fanny Burney are neatly turned with a thoughtful reference to the thing in question,

that in no way reminds us of the epistles placed on our own breakfast tables. People had time for politeness in those days, and made their very backbiting more courteous and stately than we do our compliments. Mrs. Delany, recalling her childish recollec tions of her aunt, Lady Stanley, instead of saying that Lady Stanley was a great Turk, remarks suavely, "I could ill bear the frequent checks I met with, which I too easily interpreted into indignities, and have not been able wholly to reconcile to any other character." Her father objected to Sally Kirkham, one of her young friends (afterwards motherin-law to the Mrs. Chapone), as being bold and masculine: in her review of her young days, she allows that his strictures were wellgrounded by politely saying: "From the improvements she has since made, I see she was not at my first acquaintance the perfect creature I then thought her." Very possibly dueling may fairly claim the credit of this old-world ceremoniousness which was reflected in the ladies' letters. People had to think twice before they spoke, for fear of accidents, and consequently things were implied, not said. There is an eminently cautious tone about Mary Granville's letters, and a lady-like reticence in the uncharitable passages, indicative of much culture. Thus, she describes their Gloucestershire parson (under the name of Tranio), intimating that he was, as we should say in these blunter days, a thorough boo but her severest remark is: "He used to say he had a familiar who always advised hi how to act. As much as I can remember c Tranio's conduct, I think it did not do muc honor to his familiar."

Her Gloucestershire home was Buckland near Camden, to which her father retired a the death of Queen Anne, being "of the di contented party"; a retreat for which he w indebted to his brother, Lord Lansdown "on whose friendship was his chief depen ence, now that his Court favor was w drawn -a remark which shows that s wrote in the days when ties of blood me substantial benefits to the poor relation, a patronage was a reality, great men think it no shame to support their kin at the co

try's expense. In those times, as this very Lord Lansdowne wrote to his nephew Bevil, a man of quality could not fail of making his way some time or other, and most readily in the church." It may be that the touch of barbarism about clanship has caused it to become as obsolete as it has done (except in Ireland), but the way in which we ignore all connections that are not "good" ones may further be accounted for by a striking difference between the ideas of this century and the last. Nowadays, a gentleman may be almost anything without losing caste, and he is therefore left to live by his wits. In old times his eldest brother would have supported him, to avoid the disgrace to the family of his soiling his fingers by trade.

Colonel Granville's lot was cast in this golden age of younger sons; instead of supporting his family, he retired to Buckland to educate them, much to the disgust of Mary, who says she often repeated Mr. Pope's "Verses to a Young Lady on Leaving Town after the Coronation." Her London circle of cousins (among whom was "Kitty, beautiful and young," afterwards the famous Duchess of Queensberry) was in some degree eplaced by the Sally Kirkham before menioned. Music, French, and writing filled er day, with the aid of needlework when her father read aloud, and in the evenings Tranio (and his familiar) came for whist. This monotony was only broken by the particular behavior" of "Roberto," a neighoring squire, who was finally struck with a ead palsy at hearing of Mary's marriage in 717 with Mr. Pendarves, of Roscrow, Cornall. This wedding was brought about by er uncle, Lord Lansdowne, who wished to rengthen his political interest in the West, it it took all his influence as the family nefactor to induce her to consent to it. e describes "Gromio" (i. e., Mr. Pendars) as fat, gouty, seldom sober, forty-three ars older than herself, and "altogether a rson rather disgusting than engaging." ith this companion she set out for her new me immediately after the wedding, and on tering the "Castle of Averno" (Roscrow) e burst into a passion of tears, "which be

havior shocked Gromio," as she remarks, with a naïve surprise.

Here she spent three years, only varied by the "particular behavior" of two neighboring squires-who, however, escaped the dead palsy. In 1720 she and Gromio took up their abode in London, where she became acquainted with "Herminius" (Lord Baltimore), the only man who seems ever to have made any impression on her heart. Four years later, Gromio died suddenly, leaving a will in her favor unsigned, after which she lived for a time with Lady Stanley-her chief interests in life being Lord Baltimore's visits and her correspondence with her sister Anne, who, at the the death of Colonel Granville, 1724, settled with her mother in Gloucester.

These letters supplement the autobiograpical ones (written 1740), in which she gives the Duchess of Portland an account of her life up to 1732. She calls the Duchess "Maria," though her real name was Margaret, and signs herself "Aspasia❞—it was the fashion in those days for friends to call each other by fictitious names-though Mrs. Pendarves was usually known as "Penny.” She enlivens her mother and sister in their retirement by accounts of her London life, and executes their commissions in the most exemplary manner. Apropos of these commissions, we find curious details of prices, and it must be remembered that is. then meant double the sum in our money. She sends them Bohea, "extraordinary good," at 13s. a pound, though the best is 20s., while green tea was from 12s. to 305., and the chocolate at 35. 6d. "was but poor." She asks to be repaid in lampreys, when they are plentiful enough to be ten or twelve pots for 25s. She remarks in one letter, "China is risen mightily within this month," though as she proceeds to say that "Aunt Stanley bought a set of cups, saucers, sugar dish, bason, plates, etc., cost 14s.,” it must have been mightily cheap the month before. She sends. them French salt cellars and a pair of china ones, "which," says she, “you may think old fashioned, but it is the new mode and all salt cellars are now made in that manner.' Also two "Innbridge voiders," which were

probably waste-paper baskets. Dr. Johnson defines the word "voider" as a basket in which broken meat was carried from the table. A light cake basket might perhaps have borne the name of voider in the early part of the 18th century, as in Tudor times an afternoon refreshment of confectionery used to be called a "void"-a word which would seem more appropriate to the absence of refreshment. She gives them details of the fashions, such as, "a great many people curl the hair round the face; the young and handsome become it. Ribbon is not much worn." She writes bouts-rimés, tells court gossip, and in general gives the news of the day. She goes to the Lord Mayor's feast, and dances with Michaiah Perry, "an alderman, a married man, and as blind as a beetle." She is also at George II.'s coronation and Handel's operas, and excuses herself (most unnecessarily) for not writing longer letters, saying that breakfast is not over till twelve; their toilette till two or three; then comes dinner, and then she is "liable to impertinent visits, or is engaged to go abroad."

However, in spite of all this she finds time to read as well as write, and her little dissertations on friendship are supported by quotations from Epicurus, though she observes that she has "no vast opinion" of that philosopher herself, and she is agreeably surprised to find that Cicero confutes his "sensual and false notions," in "Tully of Moral Ends," which happens to be her book in hand. Tully seems to have remained in hand some time, as her next mention of a book is eighteen months later, when she recommends her sister only to hire, not to buy, as "tis indifferently done," the "Life of Congreve." Congreve would seem to have occupied her only six months, and she then remarks: "I have lately conversed, by the help of inimitable Fontenelle, with the planets: nothing was ever so delightfully entertaining as well as instructive as his 'Plurality of Worlds.'" Later she complains of South's sermons, as beneath the dignity of religion, being "too diverting," and prefers "the plain easy way of Dr. Young "-whose worst enemies, certainly, could never accuse him of

sharing South's fault. Not only was her own reading decidedly improving, but she encour aged her sister to study thorough bass and French, and sent her Madame de Sévigné and the "Henriade."

The demarcation between town and country life, or rather, between London and the Provinces, was, in the matter of frivolity, more strongly marked then than now. While Mrs. Pendarves led a butterfly existence, diversified by occasional classics and astrono my, Anne Granville and Sally Chapone (née Kirkham) led solid, useful lives, like Lucinda in Hannah More's "Coelebs," a good type of a nice country girl who spent her time in district visiting and self-improvement, confining what diversion she had to the evening. It is true that one winter's day we find Mrs. Pendarves and her friends playing "My Lady's Hole" and "Puss in the Corner" to warm themselves; but, except for that, the only games we hear of are the evening ones of Pope Joan, Commerce, and Quadrille. Now-a-days girls who wish to waste their time have much more opportunity for so doing. But girls were kept in wholesome discipline in Mrs. Delany's days. One of her visitors happened to remark that "Please God as long as she had her limbs, she should keep her daughter in order"; she was asked what she meant and replied, "Why, I knocked her down just as I came out to wait on you." Dean Swift, in one of his letters to Mrs. Pendarves says: "The ladies in genera are extremely mended both in writing and reading since I was young, only 'tis to be hoped that in proper time gaming and dress ing may reduce them to their native igno rance. A lady of quality who had exceller good sense was formerly my correspondent but she scrawled and spelt like a Wappin wench, having been brought up in a court a time before reading was thought of any us to a female; and I knew several others very high quality with the same defect However, Mrs. Delany met with several w need not have shrunk from comparison w Girton or Merton. Mrs. Elstob, who came, through Mrs. Delany's interest, g erness to the Duchess of Portland's childr