was joined to great natural elegance. He had a species of oratory more calculated for the Senate than the people. He was a bon-vivant and kept a large, plain, hospitable table. He said that such a man was a stupid man, but an admirable hearer. He said his house was the neutral port of the Finchs, who carried on the conversation by each of them addressing him and never each other.[1] He said, when all his other stories failed him, Ireland was a constant resource. During his stay there as Lord-Lieutenant, there was no end of the ridicule with which it supplied him.[2] Both he and Sir Robert Walpole were above money, particularly the former. Lord Carteret was more careless than extravagant. When his daughter Lady Georgina was going to be married to Mr. Spencer, much against the inclination of Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough—with whom he had been in great favour, but had lost it on some political account—he suffered the day to be fixed for signing the settlements and solemnizing the marriage without any thought how he was to pay her fortune. His family, knowing that he had not the money, was under vast uneasiness as the day approached, and, as far as they could venture, reminded him of it, to no purpose till the very day before Sir—Worsley, Lady Carteret's father, came to him and, speaking of the marriage, said he hoped he was prepared with Lady Georgina's fortune, because he knew the Duchess of Marlborough's violence and her aversion to the marriage. He said undoubtedly that it could not be supposed that he was unprepared. 'Because if you are,' says Sir—Worsley, 'I have £5000 at my bankers, with which I can accommodate you.' He said: 'Can you really! If so, I shall be much obliged to you, for, to say the truth, I have not a hundred pounds towards it.' At one time he had an execution in his house, brought by a coal merchant to whom he owed £2000. His coach, &c., was stopped. As soon as it was taken off, he saw a man in the hall whose face he did not recollect. It was the merchant.
