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.*
125.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq.
Boodle's, Saturday night, Feb. 8, 1772.
*Though it is very late and the bell tells me that I have not above ten minutes left, I employ them with pleasure in congratulating you on the late Victory of our Dear Mamma the Church of England.[158] She had last Thursday 71 rebellious sons, who pretended to set aside her will on account of insanity: but 217 Worthy Champions, headed by Lord North, Burke, Hans Stanley, Charles Fox, Godfrey Clarke, &c., though they allowed the thirty-nine clauses of her Testament were absurd and unreasonable, supported the validity of it with infinite humour. By the by, C. F. prepared himself for that holy war, by passing twenty-two hours in the pious exercise of Hazard; his devotions cost him only about £500 per hour—in all £11,000. Gaby lost £5000. This is from the best authority. I hear, too, but will not warrant it, that Will Hanger,[159] by way of paying his court to L. C., has lost this winter £12,000. How I long to be ruined!
There are two county contests, Sir Thomas Egerton and Colonel Townley in Lancashire,[160] after the county had for some time gone a-begging. In Salop, Sir Watkin, supported by Lord Gower, happened by a punctilio to disoblige Lord Craven, who told us last night, that he had not quite £9000 a-year in that county, and who has set up Pigot against him. You may suppose we all wish for Got Almighty,[161] against that Black Devil.