a second, much more violent than the first; and
you must not be surprised if by next post you hear of a burning mountain
sprung up in Smithfield. In the night between Wednesday and Thursday
last (exactly a month since the first shock), the earth had a shivering
fit between one and two; but so slight that, if no more had followed, I
don't believe it would have been noticed. I had been awake, and had
scarce dozed again--on a sudden I felt my bolster lift up my head; I
thought somebody was getting from under my bed, but soon found it was a
strong earthquake, that lasted near half a minute, with a violent
vibration and great roaring. I rang my bell; my servant came in,
frightened out of his senses: in an instant we heard all the windows in
the neighbourhood flung up. I got up and found people running into the
streets, but saw no mischief done: there has been some; two old houses
flung down, several chimneys, and much chinaware. The bells rung in
several houses. Admiral Knowles, who has lived long in Jamaica, and felt
seven there, says this was more violent than any of them: Francesco
prefers it to the dreadful one at Leghorn. The wise say,[1] that if we
have not rain soon, we shall certainly have more. Several people are
going out of town, for it has nowhere reached above ten miles from
London: they say, they are not frightened, but that it is such fine
weather, "Lord! one can't help going into the country!" The only visible
effect it has had, was on the Ridotto, at which, being the following
night, there were but four hundred people. A parson, who came into
White's the morning of earthquake the first, and heard bets laid on
whether it was an earthquake or the blowing up of powder mills, went
away exceedingly scandalized, and said, "I protest, they are such an
impious set of people, that I believe if the last trumpet was to sound,
they would bet puppet-show against Judgment." If we get any nearer
still to the torrid zone, I shall pique myself on sending you a present
of cedrati and orange-flower water: I am already planning a _terreno_
for Strawberry Hill.

[Footnote 1: In an earlier letter Walpole mentions that Sir I. Newton
had foretold a great alteration in the English climate in 1750.]

The Middlesex election is carried against the Court: the Prince, in a
green frock (and I won't swear, but in a Scotch plaid waistcoat), sat
under the Park-wall in his chair, and hallooed the voters on to
Brentford. The Jacobites are so