Letters to His Son 1766-71 | Page 6

I have always owned a great regard for King Log.
From the interview at Torgaw, between the two monarchs, they will be
either a great deal better or worse together; but I think rather the latter;
for our namesake, Philip de Co mines, observes, that he never knew
any good come from l'abouchement des Rois. The King of Prussia will
exert all his perspicacity to analyze his Imperial Majesty; and I would
bet upon the one head of his black eagle, against the two heads of the
Austrian eagle; though two heads are said, proverbially, to be better
than one. I wish I had the direction of both the monarchs, and they

should, together with some of their allies, take Lorraine and Alsace
from France. You will call me 'l'Abbe de St. Pierre'; but I only say what
I wish; whereas he thought everything that he wished practicable.
Now to come home. Here are great bustles at Court, and a great change
of persons is certainly very near. You will ask me, perhaps, who is to
be out, and who is to be in? To which I answer, I do not know. My
conjecture is that, be the new settlement what it will, Mr. Pitt will be at
the head of it. If he is, I presume, 'qu'il aura mis de l'eau dans son vin
par rapport a Mylord B-----; when that shall come to be known, as
known it certainly will soon be, he may bid adieu to his popularity. A
minister, as minister, is very apt to be the object of public dislike; and a
favorite, as favorite, still more so. If any event of this kind happens,
which (if it happens at all) I conjecture will be some time next week,
you shall hear further from me.
I will follow your advice, and be as well as I can next winter, though I
know I shall never be free from my flying rheumatic pains, as long as I
live; but whether that will be more or less, is extremely indifferent to
me; in either case, God bless you!

LETTER CCLXXXVIII
BLACKHEATH, August 1, 1766.
MY DEAR FRIEND: The curtain was at last drawn up, the day before
yesterday, and discovered the new actors, together with some of the old
ones. I do not name them to you, because to-morrow's Gazette will do
it full as well as I could. Mr. Pitt, who had carte blanche given him,
named everyone of them: but what would you think he named himself
for? Lord Privy Seal; and (what will astonish you, as it does every
mortal here) Earl of Chatham. The joke here is, that he has had A
FALL UP STAIRS, and has done himself so much hurt, that he will
never be able to stand upon his leg's again. Everybody is puzzled how
to account for this step; though it would not be the first time that great
abilities have been duped by low cunning. But be it what it will, he is
now certainly only Earl of Chatham; and no longer Mr. Pitt, in any
respect whatever. Such an event, I believe, was never read nor heard of.
To withdraw, in the fullness of his power and in the utmost
gratification of his ambition, from the House of Commons (which
procured him his power, and which could alone insure it to him), and to

go into that hospital of incurables, the House of Lords, is a measure so
unaccountable, that nothing but proof positive could have made me
believe it: but true it is. Hans Stanley is to go Ambassador to Russia;
and my nephew, Ellis, to Spain, decorated with the red riband. Lord
Shelburne is your Secretary of State, which I suppose he has notified to
you this post, by a circular letter. Charles Townshend has now the sole
management of the House of Commons; but how long he will be
content to be only Lord Chatham's vicegerent there, is a question which
I will not pretend to decide. There is one very bad sign for Lord
Chatham, in his new dignity; which is, that all his enemies, without
exception, rejoice at it; and all his friends are stupefied and
dumbfounded. If I mistake not much, he will, in the course of a year,
enjoy perfect 'otium cum dignitate'. Enough of politics.
Is the fair, or at least the fat, Miss C---- with you still? It must be
confessed that she knows the arts of courts, to be so received at
Dresden, and so connived at in Leicester-fields.
There never was so wet a summer as this has been, in the memory of
man; we have not had one single day, since March, without some rain;
but most days a great deal. I hope that does not