and when she had vented all the oaths she could think of, she at last wished perfidion might seize him.  You may imagine how we laughed.  The fair intoxicate turned round, and cried “I am laughed at!—­Who is it!—­What, Mrs. Clive?  Kitty Clive?—­No:  Kitty Clive would never behave so!” I wish you could have seen My neighbour’s confusion.  She certainly did not grow paler than ordinary.  I laugh now while I repeat it to you.

I have told Mr. Bentley the great honour you have done him, my lord.  He is happy the Temple succeeds to please you.

(102) “——­It lies perhaps a little low, Because the monks preferred a hill behind To shelter their devotion from the wind.”  Byron.-E.

(103) Lady Henrietta-Cecilia, eldest daughter of John, afterwards Lord de la Warr.  In 1763, she was married to General James West.-E.

(104) In the summer of this year the dread of mad dogs’ raged like an epidemic:  the periodical publications of the time being filled with little else of domestic interest than the squabbles of the dog-lovers and dog-haters.  The Common Council of London, at a meeting on the @6th August, issued an order for killing all dogs found in the street., or highways after the 27th, and offered a reward of two shillings for every dog that should be killed and buried in the skin.  In Goldsmith’s Citizen of the World there is an amusing paper in which he ridicules the fear of mad dogs as one of those epidemic terrors to which our countrymen are occasionally prone.-E.

Letter 44 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.  Strawberry Hill, September 19, 1760. (page 88)

thank you for your notice, though I should certainly have contrived to see you without it.  Your brother promised he would come and dine here one day with you and Lord Beauchamp.  I go to Navestock on Monday, for two or three days; but that Will not exhaust your waiting.(105) I shall be in town on Sunday; but- as that is a court-day, I will not—­so don’t propose it—­dine with you at Kensington; but I will be with my Lady Hertford about six, where your brother and you will find me if you please.  I cannot come to Kensington in the evening, for I have but one pair of horses in the world, and they will have to carry me to town in the morning.

I wonder the King expects a battle; when Prince Ferdinand can do as well without fighting, why should he fight?  Can’t he make the hereditary Prince gallop into a mob of Frenchmen, and get a scratch on the nose; and Johnson straddle across a river and come back with six heads of hussars in his fob, and then can’t he thank all the world, and assure them he shall never forget the victory they have not gained?  These thanks are sent over:  the Gazette swears that this no-success was chiefly owing to General Mostyn; and the Chronicle protests, that it was achieved by my Lord Granby’s losing his hat, which he never wears; and then his lordship sends over for