LETTER CCLXXXV

London, March 17, 1766.

My dear friend:  You wrong me in thinking me in your debt; for I never receive a letter of yours, but I answer it by the next post, or the next but one, at furthest:  but I can easily conceive that my two last letters to you may have been drowned or frozen in their way; for portents and prodigies of frost, snow, and inundations, have been so frequent this winter, that they have almost lost their names.

You tell me that you are going to the baths of Baden; but that puzzles me a little, so I recommend this letter to the care of Mr. Larpent, to forward to you; for Baden I take to be the general German word for baths, and the particular ones are distinguished by some epithet, as Weissbaden, Carlsbaden, etc.  I hope they are not cold baths, which I have a very ill opinion of, in all arthritic or rheumatic cases; and your case I take to be a compound of both, but rather more of the latter.

You will probably wonder that I tell you nothing of public matters; upon which I shall be as secret as Hotspur’s gentle Kate, who would not tell what she did not know; but what is singular, nobody seems to know any more of them than I do.  People gape, stare, conjecture, and refine.  Changes of the Ministry, or in the Ministry at least, are daily reported and foretold, but of what kind, God only knows.  It is also very doubtful whether Mr. Pitt will come into the Administration or not; the two present Secretaries are extremely desirous that he should; but the others think of the horse that called the man to its assistance.  I will say nothing to you about American affairs, because I have not pens, ink, or paper enough to give you an intelligible account of them.  They have been the subjects of warm and acrimonious debates, both in the Lords and Commons, and in all companies.

The repeal of the Stamp-act is at last carried through.  I am glad of it, and gave my proxy for it, because I saw many more inconveniences from the enforcing than from the repealing it.

Colonel Browne was with me the other day, and assured me that he left you very well.  He said he saw you at Spa, but I did not remember him; though I remember his two brothers, the Colonel and the ravisher, very well.  Your Saxon colonel has the brogue exceedingly.  Present my respects to Count Flemming; I am very sorry for the Countess’s illness; she was a most well-bred woman.

You would hardly think that I gave a dinner to the Prince of Brunswick, your old acquaintance.  I glad it is over; but I could not avoid it.  ’Il m’avait tabli de politesses’.  God bless you!

LETTER CCLXXXVI

Blackheath, June 13, 1766.

My dear friend:  I received yesterday your letter of the 30th past.  I waited with impatience for it, not having received one from you in six weeks; nor your mother neither, who began to be very sure that you were dead, if not buried.  You should write to her once a week, or at least once a-fortnight; for women make no allowance either for business or laziness; whereas I can, by experience, make allowances for both:  however, I wish you would generally write to me once a fortnight.