sentimental.  You should be at least as little the dupe of her affection for her son; the only proof of fondness she has ever given for him, has been expressing great concern at his wanting taste for Greek and Latin.  Indeed, he has not much encouraged maternal yearnings in her:  I should have thought him shocked at the chronicle of her life if he ever felt any impressions.  But to speak freely to you, my dear Sir, he is the most particular young man I ever saw.  No man ever felt such a disposition to love another as I did to love him:  I flattered myself that he would restore some lustre to our house; at least, not let it totally sink; but I am forced to give him up, and all my Walpole-views.  I will describe him to you, if I can, but don’t let it pass your lips.  His figure is charming; he has more of the easy, genuine air of a man of quality than ever you saw:  though he has a little hesitation in his speech, his address and manner are the most engaging imaginable:  he has a good-breeding and attention when he is with you that is even flattering; you think he not only means to please, but designs to do every thing that shall please you; he promises, offers every thing one can wish—­but this is all; the instant he leaves you, you, all the world, are nothing to him—­he would not give himself the least trouble in the world to give any body the greatest satisfaction; yet this is mere indolence of mind, not of body-his whole pleasure is outrageous exercise.  Every thing he promises to please you, is to cheat the present moment and hush any complaint-I mean of words; letters he never answers, not of business, not of his own business:  engagements Of no sort he ever keeps.  He is the most selfish man in the world, without being the least interested:  he loves nobody but himself, yet neglects every view of fortune and ambition.  He has not Only always slighted his mother, but was scarce decent to his rich old grandmother, when she had not a year to live, and courted him to receive her favours.  You will ask me what passions he has—­none but of parade; he drinks without inclination-makes love without inclination—­games without attention; is immeasurably obstinate, yet, like obstinate people, governed as a child.  In short, it is impossible not to love him when one sees him; impossible to esteem him when one thinks on him!

Mr. Chute has found you a very pretty motto:  it alludes to the goats in your arms, and not a little to you; per ardua stabiles.  All your friends approve it, and it is actually engraving.  You are not all more in the dark about the war than we are even here:  Macnamara has been returned some time to Brest with his fleet, having left the transports to be swallowed up by Boscawen, as we do not doubt but they will be.  Great armaments continue to be making in all the ports of England and France, and, as we expect next month accounts of great attempts made by our colonies, we think war unavoidable, notwithstanding both nations are averse to it.  The French have