ase by any step unworthy of a man of honour. I do not intend, in
case of the king's allowing me to pass the evening of my days under the
shadow of his royal protection, to see England for some years, but shall
remain in France or Germany, as my friends shall advise, and enjoy
country sports till all former stories are buried in oblivion. I beg of
your excellency to let me receive your orders at Paris, which I will
send to your hostel to receive. The Dutchess of Wharton, who is with me,
desires leave to wait on Mrs. Walpole, if you think proper.

'I am, &c.'

After this, the ambassador could do no less than receive him; but he was
somewhat disgusted when on leaving him the duke frankly told
him--forgetting all about his penitent letter, probably, or too reckless
to care for it--that he was going to dine with the Bishop of
Rochester--Atterbury himself, then living in Paris--whose society was
interdicted to any subject of King George. The duke, with his usual
folly, touched on other subjects equally dangerous, his visit to Rome,
and his conversion to Romanism; and, in short, disgusted the cautious
Mr. Walpole. There is something delightfully impudent about all these
acts of Wharton's; and had he only been a clown at Drury Lane instead of
an English nobleman, he must have been successful. As it is, when one
reads of the petty hatred and humbug of those days, when liberty of
speech was as unknown as any other liberty, one cannot but admire the
impudence of his Grace of Wharton, and wish that most dukes, without
being as profligate, would be as free-spoken.

With six hundred pounds in his pocket, our young Lothario now set up
house at Rouen, with an establishment 'equal,' say the old-school
writers, 'to his position, but not to his means.' In other words, he
undertook to live in a style for which he could not pay. Twelve hundred
a year may be enough for a duke, as for any other man, but not for one
who considers a legion of servants a necessary appendage to his
position. My lord duke, who was a good French scholar, soon found an
ample number of friends and acquaintances, and not being particular
about either, managed to get through his half-year's income in a few
weeks. Evil consequence: he was assailed by duns. French duns know
nothing about forgiving debtors; 'your money first, and then my pardon,'
is their motto. My lord duke soon found this out. Still he had an
income, and could pay them all off in time. So he drank