PREFACE. The following Memoir is neither calculated to inflame the reader's passions wit scriptions of gallantry, nor to gratify his malevolence with details of scandal. amours of coxcombs and the pursuits of debauchees are as destitute of novelty to att us as they are of variety to entertain; they still present us but the same picture, a p we have seen a thousand times repeated. The life of Richard Nash is incapab supplying any entertainment of this nature to a prurient curiosity. Though passed in the very midst of debauchery, he practised but few of those vices he was obliged to assent to. Though he lived where gallantry was the capital pursuit, w never known to favour it by his example, and what authority he had was set to it. Instead, therefore, of a romantic history filled with warm pictures and f adventures, the reader of the following account must rest satisfied with a genume candid recital compiled from the papers he left behind, and others equally authen recital neither written with a spirit of satire nor panegyric, and with scarcely any art than that of arranging the materials in their natural order. But though little art has been used, it is hoped that some entertainment may be lected from the life of a person so much talked of, and yet so little known, as Mr. N The history of a man who for more than fifty years presided over the pleasura polite kingdom, and whose life, though without anything to surprise, was ever a with singularity, deserves the attention of the present age; the pains he took in pu pleasure, and the solemnity he assumed in adjusting trifies, may one day claim the of posterity. At least such a history is well calculated to supply a vacant how innocent amusement, however it may fail to open the heart, or improve the standing. Yet his life, how trifling soever it may appear to the inattentive, was not with real advantages to the public. He was the first who diffused a desire of society easiness of address among a whole people, who were formerly censured by foreigne reservedness of behaviour and an awkward timidity in their first approaches. h taught a familiar intercourse among strangers at Bath and Tunbridge, which : sists among them. That ease and open access first acquired there, our gentry back to the metropolis, and thus the whole kingdom by degrees became more re lessons originally derived from him. Had it been my design to have made this history more pleasing at the expense it had been easily performed; but I chose to describe the man as he was, not imagination could have helped in completing his picture; he will be found to ha a weak man, governing weaker subjects, and may be considered as resembling a of Cappadocia, whom Cicero somewhere calls, "the little king of a little people." But while I have been careful in describing the monarch, his dominions haveć no small share of my attention. I have given an exact account of the rise, regu and nature of the amusements of the city of Bath; how far Nash contributed to c and refine them, and what pleasure a stranger may expect there upon his ar Such anecdotes as are at once true and worth preserving are produced in their orde some stories are added, which, though commonly known, more necessarily belong history than to the places from whence they have been extracted. But it is need point out the pains that have been taken, or the entertainment that may be expected the perusal of this performance. It is but an indifferent way to gain the reader's es to be my own panegyrist; nor is this preface so much designed to lead him to beauti to demand pardon for defects. LIFE OF RICHARD NASH, ESQ. HISTORY Owes its excellence more to writer's manner than to the materials which it is composed. The intrigues Durts, or the devastation of armies, are irded by the remote spectator with as e attention as the squabbles of a village, he fate of a malefactor, that fall under own observation. The great and the e, as they have the same senses and same affections, generally present same picture to the hand of the ightsman: and whether the hero or clown be the subject of the memoir, it ly man that appears with all his native uteness about him; for nothing very was ever yet formed from the little erials of humanity. hus no one can properly be said to e history, but he who understands the ian heart, and its whole train of affecs and follies. Those affections and es are properly the materials he has to k upon. The relations of great events surprise indeed; they may be calcud to instruct those very few who govern million beneath: but the generality of kind find the most real improvement n relations which are levelled to the eral surface of life, which tell-not how a learned to conquer, but how they cavoured to live-not how they gained shout of the admiring crowd, but how acquired the esteem of their friends Í acquaintance. Every man's own life would perhaps aish the most pleasing materials for tory, if he only had candour enough to sincere, and skill enough to select such ts as once making him more prudent, zht serve to render his readers more itious. There are few who do not fer a page of Montaigne or Colley ber, who candidly tell us what they ught of the world and the world >ught of them, to the more stately me>irs and transactions of Europe, where we see kings pretending to immortality, that are now almost forgotten, and statesmen planning frivolous negotiations that scarcely outlive the signing. It were to be wished that ministers and kings were left to write their own histories: they are truly useful to few but themselves; but for men who are contented with more humble stations, I fancy such truths only are serviceable as may conduct them safely through life. That knowledge which we can turn to our real benefit should be most eagerly pursued. Treasures which we cannot use but little increase the happiness or even the pride of the possessor. I profess to write the history of a man placed in the middle rank of life; of one whose vices and virtues were open to the eye of the most undiscerning spectator; who was placed in public view without power to repress censure or command adulation; who had too much merit not to become remarkable, yet too much folly to arrive at greatness. I attempt the character of one who was just such a man as probably you or I may be; but with this difference, that he never performed an action which the world did not know, or ever formed a wish which he did not take pains to divulge. In short, I have chosen to write the life of the noted Mr. Nash, as it will be the delineation of a mind without disguise, of a man ever assiduous without industry, and pleasing to his superiors without any superiority of genius or understanding. Yet, if there be any who think the subject of too little importance to command attention, and who would rather gaze at the actions of the great than be directed in guiding their own, I have one undeniable claim to their attention. Mr. Nash was himself a King. In this particular, perhaps no biographer has been so happy as I. They who are for a delineation of men and manners may find some satisfaction that way, and those who delight in adventures of kings and queens may perhaps find their hopes satisfied in another. It is a matter of very little importance who were the parents, or what was the education, of a man who owed so little of his advancement to either. He seldom boasted of family or learning, and his father's name and circumstances were so little known, that Dr. Cheyne used frequently to say that Nash had no father. The Duchess of Marlborough one day rallying him in public company upon the obscurity of his birth, compared him to Gil Blas, who was ashamed of his father. "No, madam," replied Nash, "I seldom mention my father in company; not because I have any reason to be ashamed of him, but because he has some reason to be ashamed of me.' However, though such anecdotes be immaterial, to go on in the usual course of history, it may be proper to observe, that RICHARD NASH, Esq., the subject of this memoir, was born in the town of Swansea, in Glamorganshire, on the 18th of October, in the year 1674. His father was a gentleman whose principal income arose from a partnership in a glass-house; his mother was niece to Colonel Poyer, who was killed by Oliver Cromwell, for defending Pembroke Castle against the rebels. He was educated under Mr. Maddocks at Carmarthen School, and from thence sent to Jesus College, Oxford, in order to prepare him for the study of the law. His father had strained his little income to give his son such an education; but from the boy's natural vivacity, he hoped a recompense from his future preferment. In college, however, he soon showed that though much might be expected from his genius, nothing could be hoped from his industry. A mind strongly turned to pleasure always is first seen at the university: there the youth first finds himself freed from the restraint of tutors, and being treated by his friends in some measure as a man, assumes the passions and desires of riper age, and discovers in the boy what are likely to be the affections of his maturity. The first method Mr. Nash took to distinguish himself at college was not application to study, but by his assidu to intrigue. In the neighbourhood every university there are girls who w some beauty, some coquetry, and s fortune, lie upon the watch for every youth, more inclined to make love tha study. Our hero was quickly caught, went through all the mazes and adven of a college intrigue, before he was se teen: he offered marriage, the offer accepted, but the whole affair coming the knowledge of his tutors, his happ or perhaps his future misery, was vented, and he was sent home from colle with necessary advice to him, and pr instructions to his father. When a man knows his power over fair sex, he generally commences admirer for the rest of life. That tre which he obtains over one only maks the slave of another, and thus he pr conquering and conquered, to the of the scene. The army seemed tre likely profession in which to dis inclination for gallantry; he there chased a pair of colours, com professed admirer of the sex, and to the very edge of his finances. life of a soldier is more pleasing! spectator at a distance than to the who makes the experiment. N found that a red coat alone wo succeed, that the company of the is not to be procured without expe that his scanty commission co procure him the proper reimbu He found, too, that the profession required attendance and duty, encroached upon those hours b have wished to dedicate to softer In short, he soon became disgress the life of a soldier, quitted t entered his name as a student in the books, and here went to the very of second-rate luxury. Though ve he was very fine, he spread the ha he had in the most ostentatious and though the gilding was but laid it on as far as it would go who know the town cannot be quainted with such a character scribe; one who, though he may dined in private upon a banquet |