a conveyance, and that a wagoner’s veto is as good as a tribune’s of Rome, and can stop Mr. Pitt on his career to Mexico.  He was going post to conquer it—­and Beckford, I suppose, would have had a contract for remitting all the gold, of which Mr. Pitt never thinks, unless to serve a city friend.  It is serious that we have discussions with Spain, who says France is humbled enough, but must not be ruined:  Spanish gold is actually coining in frontier towns of France; and the privilege which Biscay and two other provinces have of fishing on the coast of Newfoundland, has been demanded for all Spain.  It was refused peremptorily; and Mr. Secretary Cortez(185) insisted yesterday se’nnight on recalling Lord Bristol.(186) The rest of the council, who are content with the world they have to govern, without conquering Others, prevailed to defer this impetuosity.  However, if France or Spain are the least untractable, a war is inevitable:  nay, if they don’t submit by the first day of the session, I have no doubt but Mr. Pitt will declare it himself on the address.  I have no opinion of Spain intending it:  they give France money to protract a war, from which they reap such advantages in their peaceful capacity; and I should think would not give their money if they were on the point of having occasion for it themselves.  In spite of you, and all the old barons our ancestors, I pray that we may have done with glory, and would willingly burn every Roman and Greek historian who have don nothing but transmit precedents for cutting throats.

The coronation is over:  ’tis even a more gorgeous sight than I imagined.  I saw the procession and the hall; but the return was in the dark.  In the morning they had forgot the sword of state, the chairs for King and Queen, and their canopies.  They used the Lord Mayor’s for the first, and made the last in the hall so they did not set forth till noon; and then, by a childish compliment to the King, reserved the illumination of the hall till his entry; by which means they arrived like a funeral, nothing being discernible but the plumes of the knights of the Bath, which seemed the hearse.  Lady Kildare the Duchess of Richmond, and Lady Pembroke were the capital beauties.  Lady Harrington, the finest figure at a distance; old Westmoreland, the most majestic.  Lady Hertford could not walk, and indeed I think is in a way to give us great anxiety.  She is going to Ragley to ride.  Lord Beauchamp was one of the King’s train-bearers.  Of all the incidents of the day, the most diverting was what happened to the Queen.  She had a retiring-chamber, with all conveniences, prepared behind the altar.  She went thither—­in the most convenient what found she, but—­the Duke of Newcastle!  Lady Hardwicke died three days before the Ceremony, Which kept away the whole house of Yorke.  Some of the peeresses were dressed overnight, slept in armchairs, and were waked if they tumbled their heads.  Your sister Harris’s maid, Lady Peterborough,