government—­but I fear, our case is like what astronomers tell us, that if a star was to be annihilated, it would still shine for two months.  The Inquiries have been a most important and dull farce, and very fatiguing; we sat six days till past midnight.  If you have received my last letter, you have already had a description of what passed just as I foresaw.  Mr. Pitt broke out a little the second day, and threatened to secede, and tell the world the iniquity of the majority; but recollecting that the majority might be as useful as the world, he recomposed himself, professed meaning no personalities, swallowed all candour as fast as it was proposed to him, swallowed camels and haggled about gnats, and in a manner let the friends of the old ministry state and vote what resolutions they pleased.  They were not modest, but stated away; yet on the last day of the committee, on their moving that no greater force could have been sent to the Mediterranean than was under Byng the triumphant majority shrank to one of seventy-eight, many absenting themselves, and many of the independent sort voting with the minority.  This alarmed so much, that the predetermined vote of acquittal or approbation was forced to be dropped, and to their great astonishment the late cabinet is not thanked parliamentarily for having lost Minorca.  You may judge what Mr. Pitt might have done, if he had pleased; when, though he starved his own cause, so slender an advantage was obtained against him.  I retired before the vote I have mentioned; as Mr. Fox was complicated in it, I would not appear against him, and I could not range myself with a squadron who I think must be the jest of Europe and posterity.  It now remains to settle some ministry:  Mr. Pitt’s friends are earnest, and some of them trafficking for an union with Newcastle.  He himself, I believe, maintains his dignity, and will be sued to, not sue.  The Duke of Newcastle, who cannot bear to resign the last twilight of the old sun, would join with Fox; but the Chancellor, who hates him, and is alarmed at his unpopularity, and at the power of Pitt with the people, holds back.  Bath, Exeter, Yarmouth, and Worcester, have followed the example of london, and sent their freedoms to Pitt and Legge:  I suppose Edinburgh will, but instead of giving, will ask for a gold box in return.  Here are some new epigrams on the present politics: 

To the nymph of bath. 
Mistaken Nymph, thy gifts withhold;
Pitt’s virtuous soul despises gold;
Grant him thy boon peculiar, health;
He’ll guard, not covet, Britain’s wealth.

Another. 
The two great rivals London might content,
If what he values most to each she sent;
Ill was the franchise coupled with the box: 
Give Pitt the freedom, and the gold to Fox.

On Dr. Shebbear abusing Hume Campbell for being A prostitute
advocate. 
’Tis below you, dear Doctor to worry an elf,
Who you know will defend $any thing but himself.