people do we send you!” I reply, “What people we do not send you!” Those that travel are reasonable, compared with those who can never prevail on themselves to stir beyond the atmosphere of their own whims.  I am convinced that the Opinions I give you about several people must appear very misanthropic; but yet, you see, are generally forced to own at last that I did not speak from prejudice — but I won’t triumph, since you own that I was in the right about the Barrets.  I was a little peevish with ’you in your last, when I came to the paragraph where you begin to say “I have made use of all the Interest I have with Mr. Pelham."(173) I concluded you was proceeding to say, “to procure your arrears;” instead of that, it was to make him serve Mr. Milbank—­will you never have done obliging people? do begin to think of being obliged.  I dare say Mr. Milbank is a very pretty sort of man, very sensible of your attentions, and who will never forget them-till he is past the Giogo.(174) You recommend him to me:  to show you that I have not naturally an inclination to hate people, I am determined not to be acquainted with him, that I may not hate him for forgetting you.  Mr. Pelham will be a little surprised at not finding his sister(175) at Hanover.  That was all a pretence of his wise relations here, who grew uneasy that he was happy in a way that they had not laid out for him:  Mrs. Temple is in Sussex.  They looked upon the pleasure of an amour of choice as a transient affair; so, to Make his satisfaction permanent, they propose to marry him, and to a girl(176) he scarce ever saw!

I suppose you have heard all the exorbitant demands of the heralds for your pedigree!  I have seen one this morning, infinitely richer and better done, which will not cost more; it is for my Lady Pomfret.  You would be entertained with all her imagination in it.  She and my lord both descend from Edward the First, by his two Queens.  The pedigree is painted in a book:  instead of a vulgar genealogical tree, she has devised a pine-apple plant, sprouting out of a basket, on which is King Edward’s head; on the other leaves are all the intermediate arms; the fruit is sliced open, and discovers the busts of the Earl and Countess, from whence issue their issue!  I have had the old Vere pedigree lately In my hands, which derives that house from Lucius Verus; but I am now grown to bear no descent but my Lord Chesterfield’s, who has placed among the portraits of his ancestors two old heads, inscribed Adam de Stanhope and Eve de Stanhope; the ridicule is admirable.  Old Peter Leneve, the herald, who thought ridicule consisted in not being of an old family, made this epitaph, and it was a good one, for young Craggs, whose father had been a footman, “Here lies the last who died before the first of his family!” Pray mind, how I string old stories together to-day.  This old Craggs,(177) who was angry with Arthur More, who had worn a 78 livery too, and who was getting into