“There has been a cold and fever in town, as universal as a plague, but, thank God! less fatal. Mr. Montagu had it violently, and we had ten servants sick at the same time. This distemper is not yet over. It grows more fatal, but I hope we shall have some rain, which will probably put a stop to it.... My poor friend Mrs. Donellan dyed of it the day before yesterday. She had been ill all the winter, and was unable to struggle with a new distemper.... We propose to go to Sandleford very soon, and I hope to have my sister Scott’s company there, which will make me very happy. Lady Bab Montagu has lost her sister, Lady Charlotte Johnson, who dyed in childbed. “Lord Hallifax is returned with great glory from his Lord Lieutenancy in Ireland. He pleased all people; he united all parties; he contented those he was sent by and those he was sent to; and has shown it is possible to please the government and to be popular there.... I suppose you have heard of the death of Sir Edward Dering, which was sudden. He has entailed everything on his grandson, and left but very small fortune to his younger children. People seem to think that by making one person in their family rich, they can make one very happy; but alas! human happiness cannot be carried beyond a certain pitch. Competency will make every one easy: great wealth cannot make any one happy. It is strange, parents should seem to feel only for one child, or, indeed, that the heir should be dearer than the child; for it is as heir they show their regards to one of the family. No personal merit, no tender attachment, no sympathy of disposition can overrule that circumstance. Sir Edward Dering dyed very rich.... “Mr. Harrison’s watch” (the fourth and most perfect time-keeper, for ascertaining the longitude at sea, invented by the Yorkshire carpenter’s son, by which he ultimately received £24,000) “has succeeded beyond expectation; navigation will be improved by it, which all who have the spirit of travelling shall rejoice at. The wives of some of our general officers are gone to Lisbon with their husbands, which I tell you for the honour of the fair sex. Lord Anson is in a very bad state of health. I am told Rome is the best place so get books at; I should be glad to have Muratori ‘Sopra le cose delli secoli passi.’ I have his ‘Annals of Italy.’ ... My love to my sister and dear little godson.... Pray remember, you owe me a goddaughter still.” Mrs. Scott’s letter in June, to Mr. W. Robinson, has two passages in it which are like notes to her sister’s epistle. “You will find few commoners in England. We make nobility as fast as people make kings and queens on Twelfth Night, and almost as many.... Lady Townshend says, she dare not spit out of her window for fear of spitting on a lord.”