revolutions in the fabric and pictures of the palace Pitti. My dear sir,
make no excuse; we each write what we have to write; and if our letters
remain, posterity will read the catastrophes of St. James's and the
Palace Pitti with equal indifference, however differently they affect
you and me now. For my part, though agitated like Ludlow or my Lord
Clarendon on the events of the day, I have more curiosity about Havering
in the Bower, the jointure house of ancient royal dowagers, than about
Queen Isabella herself. Mr. Wilkes, whom you mention, will be still more
interested, when he hears that his friend Lord Temple has shaken hands
with his foes Halifax and Sandwich; and I don't believe that any amnesty
is stipulated for the exile. Churchill, Wilkes's poet, used to wish that
he was at liberty to attack Mr. Pitt and Charles Townshend,--the moment
is come, but Churchill is gone! Charles Townshend has got Lord Holland's
place--and yet the people will again and again believe that nothing is
intended but their interest.

When I recollect all I have seen and known, I seem to be as old as
Methuselah: indeed I was born in politics,--but I hope not to die in
them. With all my experience, these last five weeks have taught me more
than any other ten years; accordingly, a retreat is the whole scope of
my wishes; but not yet arrived.

Your amiable sister, Mrs. Foote, is settled in town; I saw her last
night at the Opera with Lady Ailesbury. She is enchanted with
Manzuoli--and you know her approbation is a test, who has heard all the
great singers, learnt of all, and sings with as much taste as any of
them. Adieu!


_PROSPECTS OF OLD AGE WHEN JOINED TO GOUT._