124.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq.
Boodle's, 10 o'clock, Monday night, Feb. 3rd, 1772.
THE ROYAL MARRIAGE ACT.
*I love, honour, and respect every member of Sheffield-place; even my great enemy Datch,[153] to whom you will please to convey my sincere wishes, that no simpleton may wait on him at dinner, that his wise Papa may not show him any pictures, and that his much wiser Mamma may chain him hand and foot, in direct contradiction to Magna Charta and the Bill of Rights.
THE OPENING OF THE PANTHEON.
It is difficult to write news—because there are none. Parliament is perfectly quiet; and I think that Barré,[154] who is just now playing at Whist in the Room, will not have exercise of the lungs, except, perhaps, on a Message much talked of, and soon expected, to recommend it to the wisdom of the H. of C. to provide a proper future remedy against the improper marriages of the younger branches of the royal family.[155] The noise of Lutteral[156] is subsided, but there was some foundation for it. The Colonel's expenses in his bold enterprise were yet unpaid by government. The Hero threatened, assumed the Patriot, received a sop, and again sunk into the Courtier. As to Denmark, it seems now that the king, who was totally unfit for government, has only passed from the hands of his Queen Wife to those of his Queen Mother-in-Law. The former is said to have indulged a very vague taste in her Amours. She would not be admitted into the Pantheon,[157] from whence the Gentlemen Proprietors exclude all beauty, unless unspotted and immaculate (tautology, by the by). The Gentlemen Proprietors, on the other hand, are friends and patrons of the Leopard Beauties. Advertising challenges have passed between the two Great Factions, and a bloody battle is expected Wednesday Night. A propos, the Pantheon, in point of Ennui and Magnificence, is the wonder of the XVIIIth Century and the British Empire. Adieu.*