Now I expect a troupe of French people whom I met in a boat, as I came this morning from Isleworth—­le M. de Choiseul, Me de Choiseul, &c.  I have engaged myself to go with them to Mr. Ellis’s, because it belonged to Mr. Pope.  I said I must go home to finish mes depeches, but I expect them every minute.  Je sers d’entreprete entre le M. de Choiseul et Me sa femme.

My love to George.  I hope that le Chateau de ses ancetres a pour lui des charmes.  I read a great deal of the Howards in Pennant’s(296) book.  It is the only part that gives me pleasure; such an absurd superficial pretender to learning I never met with, and after all of what learning!  Then he tries to copy Mr. Walpole’s style in his Book of Antient Authors; le tout est pitoyable.  Adieu, dear Lady Carlisle; si vous pouvez supporter tout ce bavardage, cest parce que vous aimez votre fille, qui en est en partie la cause.

(290) Sir Archibald Macdonald, afterward Chief Baron of the Exchequer.

(291) John St. John.

(292) Francis North, Earl of Guildford (1704-1790), father of the statesman.

(293) Henry St. John.

(294) Wife of William, seventeenth and last Earl of Sutherland.

(295) Jacques Necker (1732-1804), the famous financier.  He married Mdlle.  Curchod, Gibbon’s one attachment.  Their only child became the celebrated Mme. de Stael.  In 1790 he finally was forced to retire from office as Director-General of Finance.

(296) Thomas Pennant (1726-1798), the naturalist and traveller, author of several “Tours” in the British Isles which have become classics.  His energy in travelling and scientific spirit and capacity of observation made him too modern for Selwyn and his friends:  Walpole said that, Penaant picked up his knowledge as he rode.

(1790,) Aug. 22, Sunday, Richmond.—.. .  I have nothing (more) to tell you of Caroline, than that we saw her yesterday in the afternoon, en passant, that is, in her boat, which was full of the company she had had at dinner, and which, as Mie Mie told me, were the Greggs, but ayant la vue courte, I could not distinguish, myself, who they were.

My garden was as full as it could hold of foreigners and their children—­Warenzow’s boy and girl, and the Marquis de Cinque minutes, who, of all the infants I ever saw, is the most completely spoiled for the present.  His roars and screams, if he has not everything which he wants, and in an instant, are enough to split your head.  His menace is, “Maman, je veux etre bien mechant ce soir, je vous le promets.”

The Duke was in the best humour the whole day I ever saw him, who you know has been at times as gate as the other.  He said that my dinner was perfect, and so it was dans son genre.  The ladies were much pleased with their reception, and the Duke took such a fancy to them, and to the place, that he believes that he shall be more here than anywhere, and he went to town intending to send down all preparatives for residence.  Me de Bouflers told me que je m etois menage une tres jolie retraite, and indeed at this time it is particularly comfortable to me, and the circumstance of Caroline having a house so near is not by any means the least of its agremens. . . .