I am sure you hate me all this time, for chatting about so many trifles,
and telling you no politics. I own to you, I am so wearied, so worn with
them, that I scarce know how to turn my hand to them; but you shall know
all I know. I told you of the meeting at the Fountain tavern: Pulteney
had promised to be there, but was not; nor Carteret. As the Lords had
put off the debate on the Indemnity Bill,[1] nothing material passed;
but the meeting was very Jacobite. Yesterday the bill came on, and Lord
Carteret took the lead against it, and about seven in the evening it
was flung out by almost two to one, 92 to 47, and 17 proxies to 10.
To-day we had a motion by the new Lord Hillsborough (for the father is
just dead), and seconded by Lord Barrington, to examine the Lords'
votes, to see what was become of the bill; this is the form. The
Chancellor of the Exchequer, and all the new ministry, were with us
against it; but they carried it, 164 to 159. It is to be reported
to-morrow, and as we have notice, we may possibly throw it out; else
they will hurry on to a breach with the Lords. Pulteney was not in the
House: he was riding the other day, and met the King's coach;
endeavouring to turn out of the way, his horse started, flung him, and
fell upon him: he is much bruised; but not at all dangerously. On this
occasion, there was an epigram fixed to a list, which I will explain to
you afterwards: it is not known who wrote it, but it was addressed to
him:

Thy horse does things by halves, like thee:
Thou, with irresolution,
Hurt'st friend and foe, thyself and me,
The King and Constitution.

[Footnote 1: A previous letter describes this as a Bill "to indemnify
all persons who should accuse themselves of any crime, provided they