could not be helped; they might even act as a foil to richer material.

Certainly somebody at home should know all about Sir George Etherege. To the letters he wrote would be added the private letters he received, those at least that could be got hold of. Then there would be a list of Sir George's books, ranging from Plato through Boccaccio to Molière, with not a devotional one among them, unless one should so rank a History of the Council of Trent. Finally there would come Mr. H. H.'s "acct of Sr G's life and manner of living, writ in several letters from Ratisbon". When all was over the various papers would be bound together to make a neat, informative volume.

As to more active work, he would keep those excellent ears of his open, and his eyes as well. It was a pity that after the secretary's original advance Sir George “did all his endeavours to keep things from my hearing ", lest his exploits should be told him again'; for owing to this unfortunate reticence Mr. H. H. had sadly to admit that " I believe there has passed a great many things which I have not heard ". No doubt. But Mr. H. H. had one great advantage over his master—he could speak German, a language the envoy obstinately refused to learn; and he soon found out what people thought of his master.

4

The Germans did not like the envoy, nor trouble to understand him; indeed the divergence was too fundamental. He seemed to think life was a matter to be taken in your stride. 'Easy Etherege' might be a term of commendation in London, at least in certain circles, but not in their Bavaria. In London, of course, circles intersected curiously, and there was little to be said for the propriety of that habit which prevailed there, of

C

kissing when you come and when you go. But then, if your nobility, with the example of your late monarch, consort with stage players devoid of quarterings or even of coats of arms, nothing better can be expected. Etherege, however, must learn that he could not do those things here. The worst of it was, he seemed to have no sense of the fitness of things. He actually had the impertinence to try to salute' the Countess of Schalemberg! How right of her to reprimand him, saying in the hearing of all, “Monsieur, je vous prie, ne faites pas tant de familiarité avec moi, parce que je suis la Comtesse de Schalemberg et non pas une comédienne". Decidedly he must be taught that kissing was not part of the ceremony at Ratisbon.

Indeed, his conversation and manner were altogether too free for that company. He was not even punctual in his visits, and neglected to pay some altogether, evidently thinking they were of small account. He put aside this first duty to fritter away his time with the French ambassador, of all people. He did not seem to be aware that to pay attentions to the French was to insult the Empire. Did he not know that once "one of the Diet having lent money to another was offered to be paid back in French money, which the person refused to accept of, calling it the money of corruption ". As a matter of fact he did know, but he still insisted upon paying court to Monsieur de Crécy. He used to go to his house every night of the week. Such behaviour was so marked that one of the Austrians said, "On voudrait savoir si c'est par l'ordre du roi qu'il donne tant d'ombrage à tous les ministres de l'Empire".

Yet Etherege himself could see no way out of it. "If I have visited the Count de Crécy more than the Emperor's ministers, it is because I was admitted without

ceremony, which is the plague of this place, there being scarce another house where I could enjoy my freedom, and find any diversion." Ceremony apart, to be allowed in at all was no small thing. For after a first visit the other ministers were, strangely, not receiving when the British envoy made his next appearance; or if they were, they did not return the second visit. The Elector of Bavaria's representative absolutely refused to admit him at the first, "so that ", Mr. Secretary observed to his Honoured Sir, "it is now near seven months since he received the last [visit] from anyone whatsoever ". Why this treatment? The secretary guessed, but Sir George shrugged his shoulders, and since "His Majesty did not send me here to live in solitude ", went over the way to the de Crécy's, where the delightful Countess found him very charming for a while. Apart from this, his only moment of happiness was when Mr. FitzJames, the son of the king and of his acquaintance Miss Churchill, paid him a fleeting visit on his way to the wars, where he was to qualify himself for the title of Duke of Berwick.

Thus Sir George became more than ever of the French faction'. At the same time it was unwise not to have shown a livelier enthusiasm at the taking of Buda in the autumn of 1686. He was even reported to have said that he neither believed the news nor hoped it to be true. He had evidently acquired Turkish sympathies in the old Constantinople days. But his saying flew abroad, it was noised about the streets, the Jesuit students got hold of it, and they put it into a comedy they happened to be acting a few days later, "where every minister but himself was invited. However he went thither, and heard his very words repeated on the stage, neg credo neg spero." It was supposed that nothing could be more humiliating to an envoy than to have his words lampooned in a stage

play. Yet if we may hazard a guess, Etherege probably only laughed, as any decent writer of comedy would. Besides, had he not sent his' compliment' to the Imperial Commission?

The Imperial Commission, however, took no notice of the compliment, and when they celebrated the feat of arms, inviting all the ministers and many cavaliers to a ride and a dinner, left out the English envoy, as "thought unworthy to partake in the public rejoicings ", as he complained later. But he would not be left out : he tacked himself on to the procession to assert his country's dignity. And since "Sir George would be of the number, they contrived it so that he was the nineteenth and last of all the gang, which the meanest minister but himself would have been ashamed of". But this was "nothing to what followed, which seems to have been done by complot on purpose to affront him. One person being left to keep Sir George in discourse, the rest of the company sat down at table, and reserved only a place for one. Sir George approaching and thinking to sit down, the other without ceremony prepossessed the place, leaving Sir George a noun substantive. To expose him the more, the Anhalt minister, whom he had formerly abused, asked him faintly to sit down, but without any further care of him, they fell to it, all strutting and stretching to keep him out; when otherwise they could have made place enough for half a dozen more. Sir George seeing himself thus abandoned, immediately sent for his coach, and told them upbraidingly that he could find a supper at home."

5

Perhaps it was largely the fault of the president of the Diet, who was an insufferable person: not the most docilely German minister could like the Count de

Windischgrätz. "Nobody can imagine the pride and malice of that man, who esteems himself the emperor of this place, and can not suffer anyone who will not neglect all besides to cringe to him." He was altogether too overbearing, and at last even the electoral colleges kicked against the pricks, and that more than once. It was hardly to be wondered at, for " he is hot and imperious, and uses those of the Diet who have some dependence on him as scurvily as he does his domestics". Nor was he a good official, for though he understood his master's interests', he would "sacrifice anything to his pride and ambition; and indeed all his passions are so violent, that he does him little service for want of conduct. . . . These qualities (some of his countrymen say) got him this employment. The ministers at Vienna for their own quiet favouring him in this honourable occasion of his absence."

...

He was a little older than Etherege, tormented too with the gout and gravel, which added to his natural ill-humour. Moreover he was jealous, a crime no man of Etherege's generation could stomach. At home, Chesterfield had almost been ousted from society for this same crying sin, and this man was even worse than Chesterfield. He was "of a temper so jealous that he tormented his wife before her time, when he was her lover; if he observed her speaking to any man in the drawing-room, he would get her into a corner and pinch her black and blue ".

Besides, he was a bore. He would buttonhole Etherege and tell him twenty times over how he had been received at the French court, " with as much heat as an old lady tells some pleasant passage of her youth which warms her". And he recounted it all in horribly mutilated French, roaring loudly, since he was ' vehement even in