Sir John Finett, like a man of genius in office, and living too in an age of diaries, has not resisted the pleasant labour of perpetuating his own narrative.[99] He has told every circumstance, with a chronological exactitude, which passed in his province as master of the ceremonies; and when we consider that he was a busy actor amidst the whole diplomatic corps, we shall not he surprised by discovering, in this small volume of great curiosity, a vein of secret and authentic history; it throws a new light on many important events, in which the historians of the times are deficient, who had not the knowledge of this assiduous observer.  But my present purpose is not to treat Sir John with all the ceremonious punctilios, of which he was himself the arbiter; nor to quote him on grave subjects, which future historians may well do.

This volume contains the rupture of a morning, and the peace-makings of an evening; sometimes it tells of “a clash between the Savoy and Florence ambassadors for precedence;”—­now of “questions betwixt the Imperial and Venetian ambassadors, concerning titles and visits,” how they were to address one another, and who was to pay the first visit!—­then “the Frenchman takes exceptions about placing.”  This historian of the levee now records, “that the French ambassador gets ground of the Spanish;” but soon after, so eventful were these drawing-room politics, that a day of festival has passed away in suspense, while a privy council has been hastily summoned, to inquire why the French ambassador had “a defluction of rheum in his teeth, besides a fit of the ague,” although he hoped to be present at the same festival next year! or being invited to a mask, declared “his stomach would not agree with cold meats:”  “thereby pointing” (shrewdly observes Sir John) “at the invitation and presence of the Spanish ambassador, who, at the mask the Christmas before, had appeared in the first place.”

Sometimes we discover our master of the ceremonies disentangling himself and the lord chamberlain from the most provoking perplexities by a clever and civil lie.  Thus it happened, when the Muscovite ambassador would not yield precedence to the French nor Spaniard.  On this occasion, Sir John, at his wits’ end, contrived an obscure situation, in which the Russ imagined he was highly honoured, as there he enjoyed a full sight of the king’s face, though he could see nothing of the entertainment itself; while the other ambassadors were so kind as “not to take exception,” not caring about the Russian, from the remoteness of his country, and the little interest that court then had in Europe!  But Sir John displayed even a bolder invention when the Muscovite, at his reception at Whitehall, complained that only one lord was in waiting at the stairs’-head, while no one had met him in the court-yard.  Sir John assured him that in England it was considered a greater honour to be received by one lord than by two!