“Mr. Cibber was over head and ears in love with Miss Chudleigh.  Her admirers (such was his happiness!) were not jealous of him; but, pleased with that wit in him which they had not, were always for calling him to her.  She said pretty things—­for she was Miss Chudleigh.  He said pretty things—­for he was Mr. Cibber; and all the company, men and women, seemed to think they had an interest in what was said, and were half as well pleased as if they had said the sprightly things themselves; and mighty well contented were they to be secondhand repeaters of the pretty things.  But once I faced the laureate squatted upon one of the benches, with a face more wrinkled than ordinary with disappointment ‘I thought,’ said I, ’you were of the party at the tea-treats—­Miss Chudleigh has gone into the tea-room.’—­’Pshaw!’ said he, ’there is no coming at her, she is so surrounded by the toupets.’—­And I left him upon the fret—­But he was called to soon after; and in he flew, and his face shone again, and looked smooth.”

* * * * *

“Another extraordinary old man we have had here, but of a very different turn; the noted Mr. Whiston, showing eclipses, and explaining other phaenomena of the stars, and preaching the millennium, and anabaptism (for he is now, it seems, of that persuasion) to gay people, who, if they have white teeth, hear him with open mouths, though perhaps shut hearts; and after his lecture is over, not a bit the wiser, run from him, the more eagerly to C——­r and W——­sh, and to flutter among the loud-laughing young fellows upon the walks, like boys and girls at a breaking-up.”

* * * * *

“Your affectionate and paternal friend and servant, S. Richardson.”

Richardson has mentioned only a few of the characters introduced in the Engraving.  Johnson was at that time but in his fortieth year, and much less portly than afterwards.  Cibber is the very picture of an old beau, with laced hat and flowing wig; half-a-dozen of his pleasantries were worth all that is heard from all the playwrights and actors of our day—­on or off the stage:  Garrick too, probably did not keep all his fine conceits within the theatre.  Nos. 7, 8, and 9, in the Engraving, are a pretty group:  Miss Chudleigh (afterwards Duchess of Kingston,) between Beau Nash and Mr. Pitt (Earl of Chatham,) both of whom are striving for a side-long glance at the sweet tempered, and as Richardson calls her, “generally-admired” lady.  No. 17, Richardson himself is moping along like an invalid beneath the trees, and avoiding the triflers.  Mrs. Johnson is widely separated from the Doctor, but is as well dressed as he could wish her; and No. 21, Mr. Whiston is as unexpected among this gay crowd as snow in harvest.  What a coterie of wits must Tunbridge have possessed at this time:  what assemblies and whistparties among scores of spinsters, and ogling, dangling old bachelors; with high-heeled shoes, silken hose, court hoops, embroidery, and point ruffles—­only compare the Tunbridge parade of 1748 with that of 1829.