290 THE WENTWORTH PAPERS.
fell into the discourse of what a great love the Duke of Argile had for you, and that upon all accasions he never heard a man speak better of another. He ask't him if his Grace thought you might be Master of the horse ; he wish't it you with ail his soul, but he believed for the same reason they did not give it him, they did not designe it for you, for they did no more care for rivals in favour no more then other people. He said he found by his Grace there was something designed to be done for you, which he thought was that you might sell your Dragoons, and the Queen to make up the purchase of what more Lord Portland wou'd be order'd to sell his troop for. I told him I thought the discourse of that Lord's being order'd to sell was over, and besides the management of the Treasury did not seem to tend to part with ready mony. I have been upon the pump at both the offices, and in neither do I find there has been any warrant directing commission to be drawn to put the Master of the horse in commission ; so if I am rightly inform'd there can be no such commission sign'd. I believe our friend is rightly informed as to that Duke's affec- tion to you, but in other things he has but glimmerings, and may be mistaken ; but in a scarcity of news I am glad to meet him, that I may writ you what notions some people have. He tells me the Chancelour of the Exchequer has argued very strenuously with the Duke of the fittness of forceing down upon the Lords a resumption of grants, and that he has told him
openly in the coffee house that whatsoever Lord T- shou'd
be for, that he wou'd be against, tho' he shou'd never have any himself ; but you see by the votes of the Commons they have receeded from those thoughts ; by a glorious majority our Politians are not well pleased with this sort of manage- ment, of letting things run so far and then to show their address in bringing it off well again ; with a great deal of care it might have been prevented being moved
London, July 8, 17 12. Dear Brother,
.... My Lady Strafford tells me she will send you the Flying Post of last Saturday, which is a very impudent paper.
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