of our history in which the tables are turned.  After having learnt to spell out of the reigns of Edward the Third and Harry the Fifth, and begun lisping with Agincourt and Cressy, one uses one’s self but awkwardly to the sounds of Tournay and Fontenoy.  I don’t like foreseeing the time so near, when all the young orators in Parliament will be haranguing out of Demosthenes upon the imminent danger we are in from the overgrown power of King Philip.  As becoming as all that public spirit will be, which to be sure will now come forth, I can’t but think we were at least as happy and as great when all the young Pitts and Lytteltons were pelting oratory at my father for rolling out a twenty years’ peace, and not envying the trophies which he passed by every day in Westminster Hall.  But one must not repine; rather reflect on the glories which they have drove the nation headlong into.  One must think all our distresses and dangers well laid out, when they have purchased us Glover’S(1066) Oration for the merchants, the Admiralty for the Duke of Bedford, and the reversion of Secretary at war for Pitt, which he will certainly have, unless the French King should happen to have the nomination; and then I fear, as much obliged as that court is to my Lord Cobham and his nephews, they would be so partial as to prefer some illiterate nephew of Cardinal Tencin’s, who never heard of Leonidas or the Hanover troops.

With all these reflections, as I love to make myself easy, especially politically, I comfort myself with what St. Evremond (a favourite philosopher of mine, for he thought what he liked, not liked what he thought) said in defence of Cardinal Mazarin, when he was reproached with neglecting the good of the kingdom that he might engross the riches of it:  “Well, let him get all the riches, and then he will think of the good of the kingdom, for it will all be his own.”  Let the French but have England, and they won’t want to conquer it.  We may possibly contract the French spirit of being supremely content with the glory of our monarch, and then-why then it will be the first time we ever -were contented yet.  We hear of nothing but your retiring,(1067 and of Dutch treachery:  in short, ’tis an holy scene!

I know of no home news but the commencement of the gaming act,(1068) for which they are to put up a scutcheon at White’s—­for the death of play; and the death of Winnington’s wife, which may be an unlucky event for my Lady Townshend.  As he has no children, he will certainly marry again; and who will give him their daughter, unless he breaks off that affair, which I believe he will now very willingly make a marriage article?  We want him to take Lady -Charlotte Fermor.  She was always his beauty, and has so many charming qualities, that she would make any body happy.  He will make a good husband; for he is excessively good-natured, and was much better to that strange wife than he cared to own.