I was still more surprised t’other day, than at seeing Piccadilly, by receiving a letter from the north of Ireland from a clergyman, with violent encomiums on my Catalogue of Noble Authors—­and this when I thought it quite forgot.  It put me in mind of the queen that sunk at Charing-cross and rose at Queenhithe.

Mr. Chute has got his commission to inquire about your Cutts, but he thinks the lady is not your grandmother.  You are very ungenerous to hoard tales from me of your ancestry:  what relation have I spared?  If your grandfathers were knaves, will your bottling up their bad blood amend it?  Do you only take a cup of it now and then by yourself, and then come down to your parson, and boast of it, as if it was pure old metheglin?  I sat last night with the Mater Gracchorum—­oh! ’tis a mater Jagorum; if her descendants taste any of her black blood, they surely will make as wry faces at it as the servant in Don John does when the ghost decants a corpse.  Good night!  I am just returning to Strawberry, to husband my two last days and to avoid all the pomp of the birthday.  Oh!  I had forgot, there is a Miss Wynne coming forth, that is to be handsomer than my Lady Coventry; but I have known one threatened with such every summer for these seven years, and they are always addled by winter!

(1081) The public credit in France, had, at this time, suffered a very severe blow, the court having stopped the payment of several of the public bills and funds to a vast amount.-E.

(1082) The captain of a privateer, who had commanded the French squadron off Dunkirk, destined for an attack on Scotland.-E.

(1083) Montagu.

(1084) Elizabeth, daughter of Matthew Robinson, Esq. of the Rokeby family, widow of Edward Montagu, grandson of the first Earl of Sandwich, and founder of the Blue-stocking Club.  She wrote “Three Dialogues of the Dead,” printed with those of Lord Lyttelton; and in 1769 published her “Essay on the Genius and Writings of Shakspeare.”  She died in 1800.-E.

521 Letter 344 To Sir Horace Mann.  Arlington Street, Nov. 16, 1759.

Now the Parliament is met, you will expect some new news; you will be disappointed:  no battles are fought in Parliament now—­ the House of Commons is a mere war-office, and only sits for the despatch of military business.  As I am one of the few men in England who am neither in the army nor militia, I never go thither.  By the King’s speech, and Mr. Pitt’s t’other speech, it looks as if we intended to finish the conquest of the world the next campaign.  The King did not go to the House; his last eye is so bad that he could scarce read his answer to the address, though the letters were as long and as black as Ned Finch.  He complains that every body’s face seems to have a crape over it.  A person much more expected and much more missed, was not at the House neither; Lord George Sackville.  He came to town the night before the opening, but did not appear—­it looks as if he gave every thing up.  Did you hear that M. de Contades saluted Prince Ferdinand on his installation with twenty-one cannons?  The French could distinguish the outside of the ceremony, and the Prince sent word to the marshal, that if he observed any bustle that day, he must not expect to be attacked-it would only be a chapter of the Garter.