The mob call Buckingham-house, Holyrood-house; in short, every thing promises to be like times I can remember.  Lord Anson is dead; poor Mrs. Osborn will not break her heart; I should think Lord Melcomb will succeed to the admiralty.  Adieu!

Letter 128 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.  Strawberry Hill, July 29, 1762. (page 186)

Sir, I fear you will have thought me neglectful of the visit you was so good as to offer me for a day or two at this place; the truth is, I have been in Somersetshire on a visit, which was protracted much longer than I intended.  I am now returned, and shall be glad to see you as soon as you please, Sunday or Monday next, if you like either, or any other day you will name.  I cannot defer the pleasure of seeing you any longer, though to my mortification you will find Strawberry Hill with its worst looks-not a blade of grass!  My workmen too have disappointed me; they have been in the association for forcing their masters to raise their wages, and but two are yet returned—­so you must excuse litter and shavings.

Letter 129 To The Countess Of Ailesbury.  Strawberry Hill, July 31, 1762 (page 187)

Madam, Magnanimous as the fair soul of your ladyship is, and plaited with superabundanCe of Spartan fortitude, I felicitate my own good fortune who can circle this epistle with branches of the gentle olive, as well as crown it with victorious laurel.  This pompous paragraph, Madam, which in compliment to my Lady Lyttelton I have penned in the style of her lord, means no more, them that I wish you joy of the castle of Waldeck,(237) and more joy on the peace, which I find every body thinks is concluded.  In truth, I have still my doubts; and yesterday came news, which, if my Lord Bute does not make haste, may throw a little rub in the way.  In short, the Czar is dethroned.  Some give the honour to his wife; others, who add the little circumstance of his being murdered too, ascribe the revolution to the Archbishop of Novogorod, who, like other priests, thinks assassination a less affront to Heaven than three Lutheran churches.  I hope the latter is the truth; because, in the honeymoonhood of Lady Cecilia’s tenderness, I don’t know but she might miscarry at the thought of a wife preferring a crown, and scandal says a regiment of grenadiers, to her husband.

I have a little meaning in naming Lady Lyttelton and Lady Cecilia, who I think are at Park-place.  Was not there a promise that you all three would meet Mr. Churchill and Lady Mary here in the beginning of August!  Yes, indeed was there, and I put in my claim.  Not confining your heroic and musical ladyships to a day or a week; my time is at your command:  and I wish the rain was at mine; for, if you or it do not come soon, I shall not have a leaf left.  Strawberry is browner than Lady Bell Finch.

I was grieved, Madam, to miss seeing you in town on Monday, particularly as I wished to settle this party.  If you will let me know when it will be your pleasure, I will write to my sister.