d there, and certainly the most formal, the princes of the blood
dancing first, and everybody else being taken out according to their
rank. Yet the King, being the fountain of all rank, may certainly
declare what he pleases, especially in his own palace. The public
papers, which seldom spare the French, are warm for the Russian.
Chatelet, too, is not popular, nor well at Court. He is wrong-headed,
and at Vienna was very near drawing his Court into a scrape by his
haughtiness. His own friends even doubt whether this last exploit will
not offend at Versailles, as the Duc de Choiseul has lately been
endeavouring to soften the Czarina, wishes to send a minister thither,
and has actually sent an agent. Chatelet was to have gone this week, but
I believe waits to hear how his behaviour is taken. Personally, I am
quite on his side, though I think him in the wrong; but he is extremely
civil to me; I live much at his house, admire his wife exceedingly, and,
besides, you know, have declared war with the Czarina; so what I say is
quite in confidence to you, and for your information. As an Englishman,
I am whatever Madam Great Britain can expect of me. As intimate with the
Chatelets, and extremely attached to the Duchess of Choiseul, I detest
Madame du Barri and her faction. You, who are a Foreign Minister, and
can distinguish like a theologian between the _two natures_ perfectly
comprehend all this; and, therefore, to the charity of your casuistry I
recommend myself in this jumble of contradictions, which you may be sure
do not give me any sort of trouble either way. At least I have not
_three_ distinctions, like Chatelet when he affronted Czernichew, but
neither in his private nor public capacity.

[Footnote 1: The Czarina.]

This fracas happens very luckily, as we had nothing left to talk of; for
of the Pope we think no more, according to the old saying, than of the
Pope of Rome. Of Wilkes there is no longer any question, and of the war
under the Pole we hear nothing. Corsica, probably, will occasion
murmurs, but they will be preserved in pickle till next winter. I am
come hither for two months, very busy with finishing my round tower,
which has stood still these five years, and with an enchanting new
cottage that I have built, and other little works. In August I shall go
to Paris for six weeks. In short, I am delighted with having bid adieu
to Parliament and politics, and with doing nothing but what I like all
the year round.