Sir Thomas Robinson [Long] is at last named to the government of Barbadoes; he has long prevented its being asked for, by declaring that he had the promise of it.  Luckily for him, Lord Lincoln liked his house, and procured him this government on condition of hiring it.

I have mentioned Lord Perceval’s speeches; he has a set who has a rostrum at his house, and harangue there.  A gentleman who came thither one evening was refused, but insisting that he was engaged to come, “Oh, Sir,” said the porter, “what are you one of those who play at members of parliament?"...

RANELAGH GARDENS OPENED—­GARRICK, “A WINE-MERCHANT TURNED PLAYER”—­DEFEAT OF THE INDEMNITY BILL.

TO SIR HORACE MANN.

DOWNING STREET, May 26, 1742.

To-day calls itself May the 26th, as you perceive by the date; but I am writing to you by the fire-side, instead of going to Vauxhall.  If we have one warm day in seven, “we bless our stars, and think it luxury.”  And yet we have as much water-works and fresco diversions, as if we lay ten degrees nearer warmth.  Two nights ago Ranelagh-gardens were opened at Chelsea; the Prince, Princess, Duke, much nobility, and much mob besides, were there.  There is a vast amphitheatre, finely gilt, painted, and illuminated, into which everybody that loves eating, drinking, staring, or crowding, is admitted for twelvepence.  The building and disposition of the garden cost sixteen thousand pounds.  Twice a-week there are to be Ridottos, at guinea-tickets, for which you are to have a supper and music.  I was there last night, but did not find the joy of it.  Vauxhall is a little better; for the garden is pleasanter, and one goes by water.  Our operas are almost over; there were but three-and-forty people last night in the pit and boxes.  There is a little simple farce at Drury Lane, called “Miss Lucy in Town,” in which Mrs. Clive mimics the Muscovita admirably, and Beard, Amorevoli tolerably.  But all the run is now after Garrick, a wine-merchant, who is turned player, at Goodman’s fields.  He plays all parts, and is a very good mimic.  His acting I have seen, and may say to you, who will not tell it again here, I see nothing wonderful in it; but it is heresy to say so:  the Duke of Argyll says, he is superior to Betterton.  Now I talk of players, tell Mr. Chute, that his friend Bracegirdle breakfasted with me this morning.  As she went out, and wanted her clogs, she turned to me, and said, “I remember at the playhouse, they used to call Mrs. Oldfield’s chair!  Mrs. Barry’s clogs! and Mrs. Bracegirdle’s pattens!”