explained the problem. In the case before us no such explanation can be
offered. Horace Walpole had many votaries, many friends, several
favourites, but no known mistress. The marks of the old bachelor
fastened early on him, more especially after he began to be governed by
his _valet de chambre_. The notable personage who ruled over the pliant
Horace was a Swiss, named Colomb. This domestic tyrant was despotic; if
Horace wanted a tree to be felled, Colomb opposed it, and the master
yielded. Servants, in those days, were intrinsically the same as in
ours, but they differed in manner. The old familiarity had not gone out,
but existed as it still does among the French. Those who recollect Dr.
Parr will remember how stern a rule his factotum Sam exercised over him.
Sam put down what wine he chose, nay, almost invited the guests; at all
events, he had his favourites among them. And in the same way as Sam
ruled at Hatton, Colomb was, _de facto,_ the master of Strawberry Hill.

With all its defects, the little 'plaything house' as Horace Walpole
called it, must have been a charming house to visit in. First, there was
the host. 'His engaging manners,' writes the editor of Walpoliana, 'and
gentle, endearing affability to his friends, exceed all praise. Not the
smallest hauteur, or consciousness of rank or talent, appeared in his
familiar conferences; and he was ever eager to dissipate any constraint
that might occur, as imposing a constraint upon himself, and knowing
that any such chain enfeebles and almost annihilates the mental powers.
Endued with exquisite sensibility, his wit never gave the smallest
wound, even to the grossest ignorance of the world, or the most morbid
hypochondriac bashfulness.'

He had, in fact, no excuse for being doleful or morbid. How many
resources were his! what an even destiny! what prosperous fortunes! What
learned luxury he revelled in! he was enabled to 'pick up all the roses