larger share, I have no great remorse in taking his money. Last
night he lost 3,000 pounds, and Charles above 5,000; all the other
players won something, but not a sum at all equal to our partner's
losses. Pray do not mention this, unless you hear it from some other
person, as probably you will.

The club at Brookes's is very ill attended, and Brookes enraged to
the last degree that gentlemen should presume to think of anything
but making his fortune. He complained to Charles that there was
17,000 pounds owing to the house, which is a most impudent lie; and
even if it were true he would have no reason to complain of the
balance, as he has 15,000 belonging to the proprietors of the Bank
in his hands, for which he pays no interest, though he receives at
least 5 per cent, for all money owing to him.

There are two Clubs lately formed, both consisting of young men, and
chiefly of different parties in politics. Goostree's(189) is a small
society of young men in Opposition, and they are very nice in their
admissions; as they discourage gaming as much as possible, their
Club will not do any harm to Brookes's, and probably not subsist a
great while; it seems to be formed on the model of the celebrated
Tuesday Night Club. The other is at Welche's,(190) in St. James's
Street, consisting of young men who belong to Government; and poor
John St. John, whose age and zeal for Government particularly
qualify him to be a member, has hitherto met with objections on the
ballot, which I hope will be withdrawn on another trial of his
interest, and that the Town will have the advantage of his
management at the next Masquerade, which that Club is to give after
Xmas.

Boothby has just told me that James finds himself in such bad
circumstances that he is obliged to sell all his horses, and give up
hunting entirely; but as James is in Town, and has not said one word
to me about it, I am in hopes that it is not exactly so: the Prince
is rather a dark painter, and fond of placing the principal figure
in the shade. The Prince himself, I am afraid, is rather distressed,
as he never games, and it is observed invidiously enough by people
who do not love him, that he must be poor, as he has grown so much
more agreeable than he used to be.

Crawford was giving himself great airs the other day on having taken
Longchamp, the man who keeps the rooms at Newmarket, into his
service as cook, but on enquiry it appeared that he had taken one of
his bro