“Like Cimon, triumph’d over land and wave”

I don’t know whether it was my Lord of Bristol (611) or some of the SaddlerS,((612) Company who had told him that this was the way “to steal the hearts of the people.”  He is in a quarrel with Lord Falmouth.(613) There is just dead one Hammond,(614) a disciple of Lord Chesterfield, and equerry to his royal highness:  he had parts, and was Just come into parliament, strong of the Cobham faction, or nepotism, as Sir Robert calls it.  The White Prince desired Lord Falmouth to choose Dr. Lee, who, you know, has disobliged the party by accepting a lordship of the admiralty.  Lord Falmouth has absolutely refused, and insists upon choosing one of his own brothers:  his highness talks loudly of opposing him.  The borough is a Cornish one.

There is arrived a courier from Lord Stair, with news of Prince Lobkowitz having cut off five thousand French.  We are hurrying away the rest of our troops to Flanders, and say that we are in great spirits, and intend to be in greater when we have defeated the French too.

For my own particular, I cannot say I am well; I am afraid I have a little fever upon my spirits, or at least have nerves, which, you know, every body has in England.  I begin the cold-bath to-morrow, and talk of going to Tunbridge, if the parliament rises soon.

Sir R. who begins to talk seriously of Houghton, has desired me to go -with him thither;’ but that is not all settled.  Now I mention Houghton, you was in the right to miss a gallery there; but there is one actually fitting up, where the green-house was, and to be furnished with the spoils of Downing-street.

I am quite sorry you have [)ad so much trouble with those odious cats of Malta:  dear child, fling them into the Arno, if there is water enough at this season to drown them; or, I’ll tell you, give them to Stosch, to pay the postage he talked of.  I have no ambition to make my court with them to the old wizard.

I think I have not said any thing lately to you from Patapan; he is handsomer than ever, and crows fat:  his eyes are charming; they have that agreeable lustre which the vulgar moderns call sore eyes, but the judicious ancients golden eyes, ocellos Patapanicos.

The process is begun against her Grace of Beaufort,(615) and articles exhibited in Doctors’ Commons.  Lady Townshend has had them copied, and lent them to me.  There is every thing proved to your heart’s content, to the birth of the child, and much delectable reading.

Adieu! my dear child; you see I have eked out a letter:  I hate missing a post, and yet at this dead time I have almost been tempted to invent a murder or a robbery.  But you are good, and will be persuaded that I have used my eyes and ears for your service; when, if it were not for you, I should let them lie by in a drawer from week’s end to week’s end.  Good night!