Minerva in the shape of Count Bernsdorff, or out of all shape in the person of the Duchess of Northumberland, is to conduct Telemachus to York races; for can a monarch be perfectly accomplished in the mysteries of king-craft, as our Solomon James I. called it, unless he is initiated in the arts of jockeyship?  When this northern star travels towards its own sphere, Lord Hertford will go to Ragley.  I shall go with him; and, if I can avoid running foul of the magi that will be thronging from all parts to worship that star, I will endeavour to call at Wentworth Castle for a day or two, if it will not be inconvenient; I should think it would be about the second week in September, but your lordship shall hear again, unless you should forbid me, who am ever Lady Strafford’s and your lordship’s most faithful humble servant.

Letter 351To The Hon. H. S. Conway.(1045) Arlington Street, Aug. 25, 1768. (page 531)

heartily glad you do not go to Ireland; it is very well for the Duke of Bedford, who, as George Selwyn says, is going to be made a mamamouchi.  Your brother sets out for Ragley on Wednesday next, and that day I intend to be at Park—­place, and from thence shall go to Ragley on Friday.  I shall stay three or four days, and then go to Lord Strafford’s for about as many; and shall call on George Montagu on my return, so as to be at home in a fortnight, an infinite absence in my account.  I wish you could join in with any part of this progress, before you go to worship the treasures that are pouring in upon your daughter by the old Damer’s death.(1046)

You ask me about the harvest—­you might as well ask me about the funds.  I thought the land flowed with milk and honey.  We have had forty showers, but they have not lasted a minute each; and as the weather continues warm and my lawn green,

“I bless my stars, and call it luxury.”

They tell me there are very bad accounts from several colonies, and the papers are full of their remonstrances; but I never read such things.  I am happy to have nothing to do with them, and glad you have not much more.  When one can do no good, I have no notion of sorrowing oneself for every calamity that happens in general.  One should lead the life of a coffee-house politician, the most real patriots that I know, who amble out every morning to gather matter for lamenting over their country.  I leave mine, like the King of Denmark, to ministers and Providence; the latter of which, like an able chancellor of the exchequer to an ignorant or idle first lord, luckily does the business.  That little King has had the gripes, which have addled his journey to York.  I know nothing more of his motions.  His favourite is fallen in love with Lady Bel Stanhope,(1047) and the monarch himself demanded her for him.  The mother was not averse, but Lady Bel very sensibly refused—­so unfortunate are favourites the instant they set their foot in England!  He is jealous of Sackville,(1048) and says, “ce gros noir n’est pas beau;” which implies that he thinks his own whiteness and pertness charming.  Adieu!  I shall see you on Wednesday.