nger (till October 24th, six weeks
in all); pausing in uncertainties, in a pleasant dream of victory and
sovereignty; not pouncing on Vienna, as Friedrich urged on the French
and him, to cut the matter by the root. He does push forward certain
troops, Comte de Saxe with Three Horse Regiments as vanguard, ever
nearer to Vienna; at last to within forty miles of it; nay, light-horse
parties came within twenty-five miles. And there was skirmishing with
Mentzel, a sanguinary fellow, of whom we shall hear more; who had got
"1,000 Tolpatches" under him, and stood ruggedly at bay.

Karl Albert has been sending out sovereign messages from Linz: Letters
to Vienna;--one letter addressed "To the Arch-duchess Maria Theresa;"
which came back unopened, "No such person known here." October 2d, he is
getting homaged at Linz, by the STANDE of the Province,--on summons
sent some time before,--many of whom attend, with a willing enough
appearance; Kur-Baiern rather a favorite in Upper Austria, say some.
Much fine processioning, melodious haranguing, there now is for Karl
Albert, and a pleasant dream of Sovereignty at Linz: but if he do not
pounce upon Vienna till Khevenhuller get it fortified? Khevenhuller is
drawing home Italian Garrisons, gradually gathering something like an
Army round him. In Khevenhuller's imperturbable military head, one of
the clearest and hardest, there is some hope. Above all, if Neipperg's
Army were to disengage itself, and be let loose into those parts?

EXCELLENCY HYNDFORD BRINGS ABOUT A MEETING AT KLEIN-SCHNELLENDORF (9th
October, 1741).

It was the second day after that Homaging at Linz, when Hyndford (Sept.
22d) with mysterious negotiations, now nearly ripe, for disengaging
Neipperg, waylaid his Prussian Majesty; and was answered, as we saw,
with "Tush, tush! Dinner is already cold!"

It must be owned, these Friedrich-Hyndford Negotiations, following on
an express French-Prussian Treaty of June 5th, which have to proceed
in such threefold mystery now and afterwards, are of questionable
distressing nature: nor can the fact that they are escorted copiously
enough by a correspondent sort on the French side, and indeed on the
Austrian and on all sides, be a complete consolation,--far otherwise, to
the ingenuous reader. Smelfungus indignantly calls it an immorality and
a dishonor, "a playing with loaded dice;" which in good part it surely
was. Nor can even Friedrich, who has many pleas for himself, obtai