If I enter any farther into this affair, ’tis not, I assure you, with the least view that anything I can urge will have an effect; but ’tis some satisfaction to show that I apprehend myself still in the right, though I should have the misfortune not to prevail by doing so. There can be but three considerations to induce the Duke of St. Albans to insist on this point, which are, that he believes he has a right to it, or that it will be of use to him, or that it will mortifie me. I think I have already sufficiently proved that he has not the least glimmering of right to it. I have beat him, if I may say so, out of his fortifications, and forced him in his castle to yield up the constable’s pretensions; and I will now as plainly shew that it can be of no use to him: and then the third reason alone will subsist, which is, that ’tis done to mortifie me, against which there is no arguing. All I can say is, I think I have not deserved it. The Duke lives, as other constables have done, at the Keep; and, unless he chooses to goe out of his way, (which for ought I know he may,) I can’t see the least benefit it can be to him. It is not his road to London, neither is there any road through the park, and I hope none will ever be made, and for this reason, as I told you before, nobody but the royal family and ranger were ever suffered to goe in with their coaches. The Duke of Marlborough gave the Duke of St. Albans a key to walk in it at his pleasure, but little imagined to have his civility requited in the manner it was, by having other keys made from it, the Duke distributing them as he thought fit, coming into the park with his coach and chaise, and making use of it in many other respects, just as if he had been the ranger. But your grace tells me this favour could not well be refused him, and that he is not to go through the park in right of his office, but by her Majesty’s leave. I am sorry your grace imagined that this way of turning it softened the point, because, in my poor apprehension, it seems extremely to aggravate the injury. To give the Duke leave, contrary to my earnest representations and entreaties, (who am ranger of the park,) when he owns he has no right to it, seems so manifest a partiality in his favour, that it cannot be but exceeding mortifying to me. If his grace’s merit be not very great, it is natural to conclude my demerit must be so; and as I am not conscious of having deserved this disregard, I am the more concerned to find it. I have formerly been in courts as your grace is now, and I there observed that the ministerial policy always loaded people with favours in proportion to their abilities, and the use they could be of in return to them. Perhaps I may be mistaken, but I ask your grace, Is the Duke of St. Albans a man of that high importance as to be worth making a precedent for—which may be attended with ill consequences, and in process of time bring difficultys on the crown