“. . . It has pleased the Worthies aloft to keep us in expectation of sailing at an hours notice since Sunday last. This is very proper, I am sure, and rather inconvenient too. I hate to be a-going agoing. It is disagreeable to Jack, because I have sent all his wives and his loves on shore, and altho’ I have made him an apology, he must think the Captain is no great things. The blackguards will know me by-and-by. They seem a tolerable set, and I am already inclined to love them. If they fight, I shall worship them. . . . There is another very fine frigate here, as ready as we are—the Fisgard, commanded by a delightful little fellow, Lord Mark Kerr.* He is an honour to Lords as they go. . . . If there is to be a war with Spain, it would be well to let us know of it before we sail, as money—altho’ nothing to a philosopher—is something to me. I am growing old, and none of the women will have me now if I cannot keep them in style, and you know there is no carrying on the war ashore in the peace, when it comes, without animals of that description. . . . The most cheerful fellow on politics is my brother Jack; you’ll hear no croaking from him. He says it’s all nonsense. . . .”
