Princess Amelia goes every where, as she calls it; she was on Monday at Lady Holderness’s, and next Monday is to be at Bedford-house; but there is only the late King’s set, and the court of Bedford so she makes the houses of other people as triste as St. James’s was.  Good night.

Not a word more of the King of Prussia:  did you ever know a victory mind the wind so?

Letter 57 To George Montagu, Esq.  Strawberry Hill, Monday, Nov. 24, 1760. (page 104)

Unless I were to send you journals, lists, catalogues, computations of the bodies, tides, swarms of people that go to court to present addresses, or to be presented, I can tell you nothing new.  The day the King went to the House, I was three quarters of an hour getting through Whitehall; there were subjects enough to set up half-a-dozen petty kings:  the Pretender would be proud to reign over the footmen only; and, indeed, unless he acquires some of them, he will have no subjects left; all their masters flock to St. James’s.  The palace is so thronged, that I will stay tilt some people are discontented.  The first night the King went to the play, which was civilly on a Friday, not on the opera-night, as he used to do, the whole audience sung God save the King in chorus.  For the first act, the press was so great at the door, that no ladies could go to the boxes, and only the servants appeared there, who kept places:  at the end of the second act, the whole mob broke in, and seated themselves; yet all this zeal is not likely to last, though he so well deserves it.  Seditious papers are again stuck up:  one t’other day in Westminster Hall declared against a Saxe-Gothan Princess.  The Archbishop, who is never out of the drawing-room, has great hopes from the King’s goodness, that he shall make something of him, that is something bad of him.  On the Address, Pitt and his zany Beckford quarrelled, on the latter’s calling the campaign languid.  What is become of our magnanimous ally and his victory, I know not.  It) eleven days, no courier has arrived from him; but I have been these two days perfectly indifferent about his magnanimity.  I am come to put my Anecdotes of Painting into the press.  You are one of the few that I expect will be entertained with it.  It has warmed Gray’s coldness so much, that he is violent about it; in truth, there is an infinite quantity of new and curious things about it; but as it is quite foreign from all popular topics, I don’t suppose it will be much attended to.  There is not a word of Methodism in it, it says nothing of the disturbances in Ireland, it does not propose to keep all Canada, it neither flattered the King of Prussia nor Prince Ferdinand, it does not say that the city of London are the wisest men in the world, it is silent about George Townshend, and does not abuse my Lord George Sackville; how should it please?  I want you to help me in a little affair, that regards