Therefore, although March has dissolved the tie,(129) I beg that you will lay me under some sort of restriction about it. I do not speak this from having now suffered, for I have not, as I told you before, since March last; that is, by the event. But I have been susceptible (since?) then more than once, and it has been my good fortune and not my prudence which has kept me above water. What I propose is, to receive a guinea, or two guineas, and to pay twenty, for every ten which I shall lose in the same day, above 50, at any game of chance. I reserve the 50 for an unexpected necessity of playing in the country, or elsewhere, with women. All things considered, it is the best tie, and the tax the easiest paid, and restrictive enough, and twenty guineas you will take; and if you tie me up, I beg my forfeitures may go to the children, and then perhaps I may forfeit for their sake, you'll say. I really think it will be a wise measure for me, and a safe one; and let this tie be for this year only, and then, if it is demonstrable that my fortune is impaired by not playing, the tie will be over, and not renewed the next. In the mean time, and till I shall hear your sentiments upon this, I must avoid going to Almack's, and so I will. . . . I dine to-day at Harry St. John's, and to-morrow at Eden's(130); and on Monday all the St. Johns in the world, old and young, dine here. Lord Northington(131) brought me home two nights in his coach, and in one of them the conversation turned upon you. He said there was nobody had a better idea of what a gentleman should be than Carlisle; that you was so throughout. There is a singularity and frankness in some people's manner of delivering their sentiments, by which they receive great advantage. You remember Sir R. Payne's way of describing you, which was still more odd; he said if anybody looked through the keyhole at any time to see how you behaved when you was alone, that he was sure there would be no more impropriety in it than if you had a hundred eyes upon you. I don't like commending you myself, but I like to hear others do so, and especially when they speak about what they think, and when what they think has the air of verite in it. I hope you make my compliments to Ekins, and that he has by this time read Atterbury quite through. I do not propose the Bishop as a pattern for anything but for eloquence; and for argument, on n'en trouve pas, chez lui. I think that Storer, John St. John,(132) and I, shall set out in about ten days. My coach, cloak, and muff are ready. Adieu most affectionately. My respects to Lady C(arlisle) and my love to the children, and last of all do not despair of me about Hazard, for it being what I love so much, is precisely the reason why I shall be more upon guard in respect to it. I do not mean by this to limit, but the ense recidendum; every other parti is delusive and childish. (129) See ante, note 105.