My text is not literally true; but as far as earthquakes go towards lowering the price of wonderful commodities, to be sure we are overstocked.  We have had a second, much more violent than the first; and you must not be surprised if by next post you hear of a burning mountain sprung up in Smithfield.  In the night between Wednesday and Thursday last (exactly a month since the first shock), the earth had a shivering fit between one and two; but so slight that, if no more had followed, I don’t believe it would have been noticed.  I had been awake, and had scarce dozed again—­on a sudden I felt my bolster lift up my head; I thought somebody was getting from under my bed, but soon found it was a strong earthquake, that lasted near half a minute, with a violent vibration and great roaring.  I rang my bell; my servant came in, frightened out of his senses:  in an instant we heard all the windows in the neighbourhood flung up.  I got up and found people running into the streets, but saw no mischief done:  there has been some; two old houses flung down, several chimneys, and much chinaware.  The bells rung in several houses.  Admiral Knowles, who has lived long in Jamaica, and felt seven there, says this was more violent than any of them:  Francesco prefers it to the dreadful one at Leghorn.  The wise say,[1] that if we have not rain soon, we shall certainly have more.  Several people are going out of town, for it has nowhere reached above ten miles from London:  they say, they are not frightened, but that it is such fine weather, “Lord! one can’t help going into the country!” The only visible effect it has had, was on the Ridotto, at which, being the following night, there were but four hundred people.  A parson, who came into White’s the morning of earthquake the first, and heard bets laid on whether it was an earthquake or the blowing up of powder mills, went away exceedingly scandalized, and said, “I protest, they are such an impious set of people, that I believe if the last trumpet was to sound, they would bet puppet-show against Judgment.”  If we get any nearer still to the torrid zone, I shall pique myself on sending you a present of cedrati and orange-flower water:  I am already planning a terreno for Strawberry Hill.

[Footnote 1:  In an earlier letter Walpole mentions that Sir I. Newton had foretold a great alteration in the English climate in 1750.]

The Middlesex election is carried against the Court:  the Prince, in a green frock (and I won’t swear, but in a Scotch plaid waistcoat), sat under the Park-wall in his chair, and hallooed the voters on to Brentford.  The Jacobites are so transported, that they are opening subscriptions for all boroughs that shall be vacant—­this is wise!  They will spend their money to carry a few more seats in a Parliament where they will never have the majority, and so have none to carry the general elections.  The omen, however, is bad for Westminster; the High Bailiff went to vote for the Opposition.