(319) Chatterton exhibited a ridiculous portrait of Walpole:  in the “Memoirs of a Sad Dog,” under the character of “the redoubted Baron Otranto, who has spent his whole life in conjectures."-E.

(320) The Old English Baron, a romance of considerable repute which has been frequently reprinted, was the production of Clara Reeve.  This Ingenious lady had published, in 1772, a translation of Barclay’s Latin romance of Argenis, under the title of “The Phoenix, or the History of Polyarchus and Argenis.”  She was born at Ipswich, in 1738, died there in 1808.-E.

(321) “the Sleep Walker;” Strawberry Hill, 1778.  It was translated from the French of M. Pont de Veyle, by Lady Craven, afterwards Margravine of Anspach.-E.

(322) By Lord Herbert’s Account of the Court of France, Mr. Scott most probably referred to his “Letters written during his residence at the French Court” and which were first published from the originals, in the edition of his Life which appeared in 1826.-E.

Letter 146 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.  September 1, 1778. (page 198)

I have now seen the Critical Review, with Lord Hardwicke’s note, in which I perceive the sensibility of your friendship for me, dear Sir, but no rudeness on his part.  Contemptuous it was to reprint Jane Shore’s letter without any notice of my having given it before:  the apology, too, is not made to me-but I am not affected by such incivilities, that imply more ill-will than boldness.  As I expected more from your representation, I believe I expressed myself with more warmth than the occasion deserved; and, as I love to be just, I will, now I am perfectly cool, be so to Lord Hardwicke.  His dislike of me was meritorious in him, as I conclude it was founded on my animosity to his father, as mine had been, from attachment to my own who was basely betrayed by the late Earl.  The present has given me formerly many peevish marks of enmity; and I suspect, I don’t know if justly, that he was the mover of the cabal in the Antiquarian Society against me--but all their Misunderstandings were of a size that made me smile rather than provoked me.  The Earl, as I told you, has since been rather wearisome in applications to me; which I received rather civilly, but encouraged no farther.  When he wanted me to be his printer, I own I was not good Christian enough, not to be pleased with refusing, and yet in as well-bred excuses as I could form, pleading what was true at the time, as you know, that I had laid down my press-but so much for this idle story.  I shall think no more of it, but adhere to my specific system.  The antiquarians will be as ridiculous as they used to be; and, since it is impossible to infuse taste into them, they will be as dry and dull as their predecessors.  One may revive what perished, but it will perish again, if more life is not breathed into it than it enjoyed originally.  Facts, dates, and names will never please the multitude, unless