Sir C. W. is still in confinement, and, I fear, will always be so, for he seems ‘cum ratione insanire’; the physicians have collected all he has said and done that indicated an alienation of mind, and have laid it before him in writing; he has answered it in writing too, and justifies himself in the most plausible arguments than can possibly be urged.  He tells his brother, and the few who are allowed to see him, that they are such narrow and contracted minds themselves, that they take those for mad who have a great and generous way of thinking; as, for instance, when he determined to send his daughter over to you in a fortnight, to be married, without any previous agreement or settlements, it was because he had long known you, and loved you as a man of sense and honor; and therefore would not treat with you as with an attorney.  That as for Mademoiselle John, he knew her merit and her circumstances; and asks, whether it is a sign of madness to have a due regard for the one, and a just compassion for the other.  I will not tire you with enumerating any more instances of the poor man’s frenzy; but conclude this subject with pitying him, and poor human nature, which holds its reason by so precarious a tenure.  The lady, who you tell me is set out, ’en sera pour la seine et les fraix du voyage’, for her note is worth no more than her contract.  By the way, she must be a kind of ‘aventuriere’, to engage so easily in such an adventure with a man whom she had not known above a week, and whose ‘debut’ of 10,000 roubles showed him not to be in his right senses.

You will probably have seen General Yorke, by this time, in his way to Berlin or Breslau, or wherever the King of Prussia may be.  As he keeps his commission to the States General, I presume he is not to stay long with his Prussian Majesty; but, however, while he is there, take care to write to him very constantly, and to give all the information you can.  His father, Lord Hardwicke, is your great puff:  he commends your office letters, exceedingly.  I would have the Berlin commission your object, in good time; never lose view of it.  Do all you can to recommend yourself to the King of Prussia on your side of the water, and to smooth your way for that commission on this; by the turn which things have taken of late, it must always be the most important of all foreign commissions from hence.

I have no news to send you, as things here are extremely quiet; so, good-night.

LETTER CCXX

London, April 25, 1758.

Dear friend:  I am now two letters in your debt, which I think is the first time that ever I was so, in the long course of our correspondence.  But, besides that my head has been very much out of order of late, writing is by no means that easy thing that it was to me formerly.  I find by experience, that the mind and the body are more than married, for they are most intimately united; and when the one suffers, the other sympathizes.  ‘Non sum qualis eram’:  neither my memory nor my invention are now what they formerly were.  It is in a great measure my own fault; I cannot accuse Nature, for I abused her; and it is reasonable I should suffer for it.