Your friend Lady------is gone into the country with her Lord, to
negotiate, coolly and at leisure, their intended separation.  My Lady
insists upon my Lord’s dismissing the------, as ruinous to his fortune;
my Lord insists, in his turn, upon my Lady’s dismissing Lord----------;
my Lady replies, that that is unreasonable, since Lord creates no expense
to the family, but rather the contrary.  My Lord confesses that there is
some weight in this argument:  but then pleads sentiment:  my Lady says, a
fiddlestick for sentiment, after having been married so long.  How this
matter will end, is in the womb of time, ‘nam fuit ante Helenam’.

You did very well to write a congratulatory letter to Prince Ferdinand; such attentions are always right, and always repaid in some way or other.

I am glad you have connected your negotiations and anecdotes; and, I hope, not with your usual laconism.  Adieu!  Yours.

LETTER CCXXVII

Blackheath, August 1, 1758

My dear friend:  I think the Court of Cassel is more likely to make you a second visit at Hamburg, than you are to return theirs at Cassel; and therefore, till that matter is clearer, I shall not mention it to Lord Holderness.

By the King of Prussia’s disappointment in Moravia, by the approach of the Russians, and the intended march of Monsieur de Soubize to Hanover, the waters seem to me to be as much troubled as ever.  ’Je vois tres noir actuellement’; I see swarms of Austrians, French, Imperialists, Swedes, and Russians, in all near four hundred thousand men, surrounding the King of Prussia and Prince Ferdinand, who have about a third of that number.  Hitherto they have only buzzed, but now I fear they will sting.

The immediate danger of this country is being drowned; for it has not ceased raining these three months, and withal is extremely cold.  This neither agrees with me in itself, nor in its consequences; for it hinders me from taking my necessary exercise, and makes me very unwell.  As my head is always the part offending, and is so at present, I will not do, like many writers, write without a head; so adieu.

LETTER CCXXVIII

Blackheath, August 29, 1758.

My dear friend:  Your secretary’s last letter brought me the good news that the fever had left you, and I will believe that it has:  but a postscript to it, of only two lines, under your own hand, would have convinced me more effectually of your recovery.  An intermitting fever, in the intervals of the paroxysms, would surely have allowed you to have written a few lines with your own hand, to tell me how you were; and till I receive a letter (as short as you please) from you yourself, I shall doubt of the exact truth of any other accounts.