Adieu!  I was very silly to alarm you so; but the wisest of’ us, from Solomon to old Carr’s cousin, are poor souls!  May be you don’t know any thing of Carr’s cousin.  Why then, Carr’s cousin was—­I don’t know who; but Carr was very ill, and had a cousin, as I may be, to sit up with her.  Carr had not slept for many nights—­at last she dozed—­her cousin jogged her:  “Cousin, cousin!”—­“Well!” said Carr, “what would you have?”—­“Only, cousin, if you die where will you be buried?” This resemblance mortifies me ten times more than a thousand reviews could do:  there is nothing in being abused by Carr’s cousin, but it is horrid to be like Carr’s cousin Good night!

(1002) Ibid.

(1003) Mr. Spence’s Parallel of Magliabechi and Hill.-E.

476 Letter 303 To Sir Horace Mann.  Arlington Street, Feb. 9, 1759.

The Dutch have not declared war and interrupted our correspondence, and yet it seems ceased as if we had declared war with one another.  I have not heard from you this age—­how happens it?  I have not seized any ships of yours—­you carry on no counterband trade—­oh! perhaps you are gone incognito to Turin, are determined to have a King of Prussia of your own!  I expect to hear that the King of Sardinia, accompanied by Sir Horace Mann, the British minister, suddenly appeared before Parma at the head of an hundred thousand men, that had been privately landed at Leghorn.  I beg, as Harlequin did when he had a house to sell, that you will send me a brick, as a sample of the first town you take-the Strawberry-press shall be preparing a congratulatory ode.

The Princess Royal has been dead some time:  and yet the Dutch and we continue in amity, and put on our weepers together.  In the mean time our warlike eggs have been some time under the hen, and one has hatched and produced Gor`ee.  The expedition, called to Quebec, departs on Tuesday next, under Wolfe, and George Townshend, who has thrust himself again into the service, and as far as wrongheadedness will go, very proper for a hero.  Wolfe, who was no friend of Mr. Conway last year, and for whom I consequently have no affection, has great merit, spirit, and alacrity, and shone extremely at Louisbourg.  I am not such a Juno but I will forgive him after eleven more labours.(1004) Prince Edward asked to go with them, but was refused.  It is clever in him to wish to distinguish himself; I, who have no partiality to royal blood, like his good-nature and good-breeding.

Except the horrid Portuguese histories, that between Jesuits(1005) and executions make one’s blood run hot and cold, we have no news.  The Parliament has taken a quieting-draught.  Of private story, the Duchess of Hamilton is going to marry Colonel Campbell, Lady Ailesbury’s brother.  It is a match that would not disgrace Arcadia.  Her beauty has made sufficient noise, and in some people’s eyes is even improved—­he has a most pleasing countenance, person, and manner,