I will carry these predictions no farther than to the year 2001, when the learned think the world will be at an end, or the fine-all cat-a-strow-fee.
The last is the period, two thousand and one,
When m— and b— to Hell all are gone.
When that time comes, pray remember the discovery came from me.
It is now time I should begin my letter. I hope you got safe to Cavan, and have got no cold in those two terrible days. All your friends are well, and I as I used to be. I received yours. My humble service to your lady, and love to your children. I suppose you have all the news sent to you. I hear of no marriages going on. One dean Cross, an eminent divine, we hear is to be bishop of Cork. — Stay till I ask a servant, what Patrick's bells ring for so late at night — You fellow, is it for joy or sorrow? I believe it some of our royal birthdays. — O, they tell me, it is for joy a new master is chosen for the corporation of butchers. So farewell.
FROM LORD BATHURST.
THOUGH you never answer any of my letters, and I can never have a line from you, except in parliament time about an Irish cause, I do insist that without delay you give me either by yourself or agents immediate satisfaction in these points. First,
