ARLINGTON STREET, _Jan._ 19, 1759.
I hope the treaty of Sluys[1] advances rapidly. Considering that your
own court is as new to you as Monsieur de Bareil and his, you cannot be
very well entertained: the joys of a Dutch fishing town and the
incidents of a cartel will not compose a very agreeable history. In the
mean time you do not lose much; though the Parliament is met, no
politics are come to town; one may describe the House of Commons like
the price of stocks--Debates, nothing done. Votes, under par. Patriots,
no price. Oratory, books shut. Love and war are as much at a stand;
neither the Duchess of Hamilton, nor the expeditions are gone off yet.
Prince Edward has asked to go to Quebec, and has been refused. If I was
sure they would refuse me, I would ask to go thither too. I should not
dislike about as much laurel as I could stick in my window at Christmas.
[Footnote 1: Treaty of Sluys. Conway was engaged at Sluys negotiating
with the French envoy, M. de Bareil, for an exchange of prisoners.]
We are next week to have a serenata at the Opera-house for the King of
Prussia's birthday; it is to begin, "Viva Georgio, e Frederigo viva!" It
will, I own, divert me to see my Lord Temple whispering _for_ this
alliance, on the same bench on which I have so often seen him whisper
_against_ all Germany. The new opera pleases universally, and I hope
will yet hold up its head. Since Vanneschi is cunning enough to make us
sing _the roast beef of old Germany_, I am persuaded it will revive;
politics are the only hot-bed for keeping such a tender plant as Italian
music alive in England.
You are so thoughtless about your dress, that I cannot help giving you a
little warning against your return. Remember, everybody that comes from
abroad is _censé_ to come from France, and whatever they wear at their
first reappearance immediately grows the fashion. Now if, as is very
likely, you should through inadvertence change hats with a master of a
Dutch smack, Offley will be upon the watch, will conclude you took your
pattern from M. de Bareil, and in a week's time we shall all be equipped
like Dutch skippers. You see I speak very disinterestedly; for, as I
never wear a hat myself, it is indifferent to me what sort of hat I
don't wear. Adieu! I hope nothing in this letter, if it is opened, will
affect _the conferences_, nor hasten our rupture with Holland. Lest it
should, I send it to Lord Holdernesse's office; concluding, like Lady
Betty Waldegrave, that the Government never suspect what they send under
their own covers.
_ROBERTSON'S "HISTORY OF SCOTLAND"--COMPARISON OF RAMSAY AND REYNOLDS AS
PORTRAIT-PAINTERS--SIR DAVID'S "HISTORY OF THE GOWRIE CONSPIRACY."_