Lord Hinchinbroke, from the earliest period of infancy, had all the
marks of the Montagu family. He had a good head, and a red head, and
a Roman nose, and a turn to the _ars amatoria_ of Ovid, and all the
writers who may have written on love. As it was in the beginning--may be
said now.
Though in point of scholarship he was not in the very first line, the
descendant of Lord Sandwich could not but have ability, and he had it;
but this was so mixed with the wanderings of the heart, the vivacity of
youthful imagination, and a turn to pleasure, that a steady pursuit of
any one object of a literary turn could not be expected.
But it was his praise that he went far in a short time; sometimes too
far; for Barnard had to exercise himself, and his red right arm, as the
vengeful poet expresses it, very frequently on the latter end of his
lordship's excursions.
In one of these excursions to Windsor, he had the good or ill fortune to
engage in a little amorous amement with a young lady, the consequence
of ~87~~ which was an application to Lucina for assistance. Of this
doctor Barnard was informed, and though the remedy did not seem tending
towards a cure, he was brought up immediately to be flogged.
He bore this better than his master, who cried out, after some few
lashes--"Psha! what signifies my flogging him for being like his father?
What's bred in the bone will never get out of the flesh.
Pages:
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134