There is a mad parson goes about; he called to a sentinel the other day in the Park; "Did you ever see the Leviathan?" "No." "Well, he is as like Sir. R. W. as ever two devils were like one another."
Never was such unwholesome weather! I have a great cold, and have not been well this fortnight: even immortal majesty has had a looseness.
The Duke of Ancaster (300) and Lord James Cavendish (301) are dead.
This is all the news I know: I would I had time to write more; but I know you will excuse me now. If I wrote more, it would be still about the Italian expedition, I am so disturbed about it. Yours, ever.
(299) Admiral Vernon was now in the height of his popularity, in consequence of his successful attack upon Porto-Bello, in November, 1739, and the great gallantry he had shown upon that occasion. His determined and violen't opposition, as a member of parliament, to the measures of the government, assisted in rendering him the idol of the mob, which he continued for many years.-D. [The admiral was actually elected for Rochester, Ipswich, and Penryn: he'was also set up for the City of London, where he was beaten by two thousand votes; and in Westminster, where he was beaten by four hundred. After the affair of Porto-Bello, he took Chagre, and continued in the service till 1748; when several matters which had passed between him and the lords of the admiralty being laid before the king, be was struck off the list of flag officers. He died in 1757. A handsome monument was erected to his memory in Westminster Abbey.]
(300) Peregrine Bertie, second Duke of Ancaster and Kesteven, great chamberlain of England, and chief justice in Eyre, north of Trent. The report of his death was premature. His grace survived till the 1st of January.-E.
(301) The second son of William, second Duke of Devonshire. He was colonel of a regiment of foot-guards, and member for Malton.-E.
189 Letter 42 To Sir Horace Mann. Downing Street, Nov. 23, 1741.
Your letter has comforted me much, if it can be called comfort to have one's uncertainty fluctuate to the better side. You make me hope that the Spaniards design on Lombardy ; my passion for Tuscany, and anxiety for you, make me eager to believe it; but alas! while I am in the belief of this, they may be in the act of conquest in Florence, and poor you retiring politically! How delightful is Mr. Chute for cleaving unto you like Ruth! "Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge!" As to the merchants of Leghorn and their concerns, Sir R. thinks you are mistaken, and that if the Spaniards come thither, they will by no means be safe. I own I write to you under a great dilemma; I flatter myself, all is well with you; but if not, how disagreeable to have one's letters fall into strange hands. I write, however.
A brother Of Mine, (302) Edward by name, has lately had a call to matrimony: the virgins name was Howe. (303) He had agreed to take her with no fortune, she him with his four children. The father of him, to get rid of his importunities, at last acquiesced. The very moment he had obtained this consent, he repented; and, instead of flying on the wings of love to notify it, he went to his fair One, owned his father had mollified, but hoped she would be so good as to excuse him. You cannot imagine what an entertaining fourth act of the opera we had the other night. Lord Vane, (304) in the middle of the pit, making love to my lady. The Duke of Newcastle (305) has lately given him three-score thousand pounds, to consent to cut off the entail of the Newcastle estate. The fool immediately wrote to his wife, to beg she would return to him from Lord Berkeley; that he had got so much money, and now they might live comfortably: but she will not live comfortably: she is at Lord Berkeley's house, whither go divers after her. Lady Townshend told me an admirable history; it is of our friend Lady Pomfret. Somebody that belonged to the Prince of Wales said, they were going to Court; it was objected that they ought to say, going to Carlton House; that the only Court is where the king resides. Lady P. with her paltry air of significant learning and absurdity, said, "Oh Lord! is there no Court in England, but the king's? sure, there are many more! There is the Court of Chancery, the Court of Exchequer, the Court of King's Bench, etc." Don't you love her? Lord Lincoln does her dauhter: he is come over, and met her the other night: he turned pale, spoke to her several times in the evening, but not long, and sighed to me at going away. He came over all alive; and not only his uncle-duke, but even majesty is fallen in love with him. He talked to the king at his levee, without being spoken to. That was always thought high treason; but I don't know how the gruff gentleman liked it; and then he had been told that Lord Lincoln designed to have made the campaicn, if we had gone to war; in short, he says, Lord Lincoln (306) is the handsomest man in England