the fair that keep, the golden fleece.  These are the arts and the accomplishments absolutely necessary for a foreign minister; in which it must be owned, to our shame, that most other nations outdo the English; and, ‘caeteris paribus’, a French minister will get the better of an English one at any third court in Europe.  The French have something more ‘liant’, more insinuating and engaging in their manner, than we have.  An English minister shall have resided seven years at a court, without having made any one personal connection there, or without being intimate and domestic in any one house.  He is always the English minister, and never naturalized.  He receives his orders, demands an audience, writes an account of it to his Court, and his business is done.  A French minister, on the contrary, has not been six weeks at a court without having, by a thousand little attentions, insinuated himself into some degree of favor with the Prince, his wife, his mistress, his favorite, and his minister.  He has established himself upon a familiar and domestic footing in a dozen of the best houses of the place, where he has accustomed the people to be not only easy, but unguarded, before him; he makes himself at home there, and they think him so.  By these means he knows the interior of those courts, and can almost write prophecies to his own, from the knowledge he has of the characters, the humors, the abilities, or the weaknesses of the actors.  The Cardinal d’Ossat was looked upon at Rome as an Italian, and not as a French cardinal; and Monsieur d’Avaux, wherever he went, was never considered as a foreign minister, but as a native, and a personal friend.  Mere plain truth, sense, and knowledge, will by no means do alone in courts; art and ornaments must come to their assistance.  Humors must be flattered; the ‘mollia tempora’ must be studied and known:  confidence acquired by seeming frankness, and profited of by silent skill.  And, above all; you must gain and engage the heart, to betray the understanding to you.  ’Ha tibi erunt artes’.

The death of the Prince of Wales, who was more beloved for his affability and good-nature than esteemed for his steadiness and conduct, has given concern to many, and apprehensions to all.  The great difference of the ages of the King and Prince George presents the prospect of a minority; a disagreeable prospect for any nation!  But it is to be hoped, and is most probable, that the King, who is now perfectly recovered of his late indisposition, may live to see his grandson of age.  He is, seriously, a most hopeful boy:  gentle and good-natured, with good sound sense.  This event has made all sorts of people here historians, as well as politicians.  Our histories are rummaged for all the particular circumstances of the six minorities we have had since the Conquest, viz, those of Henry III., Edward III., Richard II., Henry vi., Edward V., and Edward vi.; and the reasonings, the speculations, the conjectures, and the predictions, you will easily imagine, must be innumerable and endless, in this nation, where every porter is a consummate politician.  Dr. Swift says, very humorously, that “Every man knows that he understands religion and politics, though he never learned them; but that many people are conscious that they do not understand many other sciences, from having never learned them.”  Adieu.