in his head; and rancour enough in his heart to inoculate and affect a whole nation. The other is (I hear) intended for a share in the ad[ministratio]n, and the pensionary vouches for his being duly qualified--The only instance I ever heard of his sagacity, was his deserting his former patron, when he found him declining in power, and in disgrace with the people. Without principle, talent, or intelligence, he is ungracious as a hog, greedy as a vulture, and thievish as a jackdaw; but, it must be owned, he is no hypocrite. He pretends to no virtue, and takes no pains to disguise his character--His ministry will be attended with one advantage, no man will be disappointed by his breach of promise, as no mortal ever trusted to his word. I wonder how lord--first discovered this happy genius, and for what purpose lord--has now adopted him: but one would think, that as amber has a power to attract dirt, and straws, and chaff, a minister is endued with the same kind of faculty, to lick up every knave and blockhead in his way’--His eulogium was interrupted by the arrival of the old duke of N--; who, squeezing into the circle with a busy face of importance, thrust his head into every countenance, as if he had been in search of somebody, to whom he wanted to impart something of great consequence--My uncle, who had been formerly known to him, bowed as he passed; and the duke seeing himself saluted so respectfully by a well-dressed person, was not slow in returning the courtesy--He even came up, and, taking him cordially by the hand, ‘My dear friend, Mr A-- (said he) I am rejoiced to see you-- How long have you been come from abroad?--How did you leave our good friends the Dutch? The king of Prussia don’t think of another war, ah?--He’s a great king! a great conqueror! a very great conqueror! Your Alexanders and Hannibals were nothing, at all to him, sir--Corporals! drummers! dross! mere trash--Damned trash, heh?’--His grace being by this time out of breath, my uncle took the opportunity to tell him he had not been out of England, that his name was Bramble, and that he had the honour to sit in the last parliament but one of the late king, as representative for the borough of Dymkymraig. ‘Odso! (cried the duke) I remember you perfectly well, my dear Mr Bramble--You was always a good and loyal subject--a stanch friend to administration--I made your brother an Irish bishop’--‘Pardon me, my lord (said the squire) I once had a brother, but he was a captain in the army’--‘Ha! (said his grace) he was so--He was, indeed! But who was the Bishop then! Bishop Blackberry--Sure it was bishop Blackberry. Perhaps some relation of yours’--‘Very likely, my lord (replied my uncle); the Blackberry is the fruit of the Bramble--But, I believe, the bishop is not a berry of our bush’--‘No more he is--No more he is, ha, ha, ha! (exclaimed the duke) there you gave me a scratch, good Mr Bramble, ha, ha, ha!--Well, I shall be glad to see you at Lincoln’s inn-fields--You know the