(939) The defeat of the Russians at Zorndorf.

(940) The repulse of General Abercrombie at Ticonderoga.

446 Letter 282 To Sir Horace Mann.  Strawberry Hill, Sept. 9, 1758.

Well! the King of Prussia is found again—­where do you think? only in Poland, up to the chin in Russians!  Was ever such a man!  He was riding home from Olmutz; they ran and told him of an army of Muscovites,(941) as you would of a covey of partridges; he galloped thither, and shot them.  But what news I am telling you!  I forgot that all ours comes by water-carriage, and that you must know every thing a fortnight before us.  It is incredible how popular he is here; except a few, who take him for the same person as Mr. Pitt, the lowest of the people are perfectly acquainted with him:  as I was walking by the river the other night, a bargeman asked me for something to drink the King of Prussia’s health.  Yet Mr. Pitt specifies his own glory as much as he can:  the standards taken at Louisbourg have been carried to St. Paul’s with much parade; and this week, after bringing it by land from Portsmouth, they have dragged the cannon of Cherbourg into Hyde Park, on pretence of diverting a man,(942) whom, in former days, I believe, Mr. Pitt has laughed for loving such rattles as drums and trumpets.  Our expedition, since breaking a basin at Cherbourg, has done nothing, but are dodging about still.  Prince Edward gave one hundred guineas to the poor of Cherbourg, and the General and Admiral twenty-five apiece.  I love charity, but sure is this excess of it, to lay out thousands, and venture so many lives, for the opportunity of giving a Christmas-box to your enemies!  Instead of beacons, I suppose, the coast of France will be hung with pewter-pots with a slit in them, as prisons are, to receive our alms.

Don’t trouble yourself about the Pope:  I am content to find that he will by no means eclipse my friend.  You please me with telling me of a collection of medals bought for the Prince of Wales.  I hope it Is his own taste; if it is only thought right that he should have it, I am glad.

I am again got into the hands of builders, though this time to a very small extent; only the addition of a little cloister and bedchamber.  A day may come that will produce a gallery, a round tower, a large cloister, and a cabinet, in the manner of a little chapel:  but I am too poor for these ambitious designs yet, and I have so many ways of dispersing My Money, that I don’t know when I shall be richer.  However, I amuse myself infinitely; besides my printing-house, which is constantly at work, besides such a treasure of taste and drawing as my friend Mr. Bentley, I have a painter in the house, who is an engraver too, a mechanic, an every thing.  He was a Swiss engineer in the French service; but his regiment being broken at the peace, Mr. Bentley found him in the Isle of Jersey and fixed him with me.  He has an astonishing genius for