‘My dear Mr. Rogers,—I have felt very anxious about you ever since we left London. Some weeks ago I wrote to you, but I do not know whether you received my letter. Last week my brother went to London, and I begged him to call on you, that is, to make inquiries after you at your house. He brought me the pleasant intelligence that you had been able to leave London and were at Brighton. I am indeed rejoiced to hear that you had been able to move, and I trust that you have no difficulty in driving out every day.
‘I shall be greatly obliged to you if you will allow your servant to write me two or three lines to tell me how you are, and whether you go out. I conclude that you will pass great part of the winter at Brighton, where I hope you have found some of your friends.
‘Do not you think that our sober countrymen have gone a
little mad on the subject of No Popery? I never was a Whig even in early days,
yet I always disliked the anti-Catholic cry. I think Lord John, in his bitterness against my good brother-in-law and his friends, may have cause
to regret the rashness of his letter, which I hear
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