Jenkins's Ear, rising at last like a fiery portent, has kindled the London Fog over yonder, in a strange way, and the murky stagnancy is all getting on fire; the English intent, as seldom any Nation was, to give the Spaniards an effectual beating.

Which they hope they can,--though unexpected difficulties will occur.

And, in the mean while, what a riddle of potentialities for his poor Majesty to read, and pick his way from!-- Bielfeld, in spite of all this, would fain be full of admiration for the Britannic Majesty.

Confesses he is below the middle size, in fact a tiny little creature, but then his shape is perfect; leg much to be commended,--which his Majesty knows, standing always with one leg slightly advanced, and the Order of the Garter on it, that mankind may take notice.

Here is Bielfeld's description faithfully abridged:-- "Big blue eyes, perhaps rather of parboiled character, though proud enough; eyes flush with his face or more, rather IN RELIEF than on a level with it,"-- A FLEUR DE TETE, after the manner of a fish, if one might say so, and betokening such an intellect behind them! "Attitude constrained, leg advanced in that way; his courtiers call it majestic.
Biggish mouth, strictly shut in the crescent or horse-shoe form (FERMEE EN CROISSANT); curly wig (A NOEUDS, reminding you of lamb's-wool, color not known); eyebrows, however, you can see are ashy-blond; general tint is fundamentally livid; but when in good case, the royal skin will take tolerably bright colors (PREND D'ASSEZ BELLES COULEURS).