1767,

MY DEAR FRIEND: By your letter of the 25th past, from Basle, I presume
this will find you at Dresden, and accordingly I direct to you there.
When you write me word that you are at Dresden, I will return you an
answer, with something better than the answer itself.

If you complain of the weather, north of Besancon, what would you say to
the weather that we have had here for these last two months,
uninterruptedly? Snow often, northeast wind constantly, and extreme cold.
I write this by the side of a good fire; and at this moment it snows very
hard. All my promised fruit at Blackheath is quite destroyed; and, what
is worse, many of my trees.

I cannot help thinking that the King of Poland, the Empress of Russia,
and the King of Prussia, 's'entendent comme larrons en foire', though the
former must not appear in it upon account of the stupidity, ignorance,
and bigotry of his Poles. I have a great opinion of the cogency of the
controversial arguments of the Russian troops, in favor of the
Dissidents: I am sure I wish them success; for I would have all
intoleration intolerated in its turn. We shall soon see more clearly into
this matter; for I do not think that the Autocratrice of all the Russias
will be trifled with by the Sarmatians.

What do you think of the late extraordinary event in Spain? Could you
have ever imagined that those ignorant Goths would have dared to banish
the Jesuits? There must have been some very grave and important reasons
for so extraordinary a measure: but what they were I do not pretend to
guess; and perhaps I shall never know, though all the coffeehouses here
do.

Things are here in exactly the same situation, in which they were when I
wrote to you last. Lord Chatham is still ill, and only goes abroad for an
hour in a day, to take the air, in his coach. The King has, to my certain
knowledge, sent him repeated messages, desiring him not to be concerned
at his confinement, for that he is resolved to support him, 'pour et
contre tous'. God bless you!

LETTER CCXCIX

LONDON, June 1, 1767.

MY DEAR FRIEND: I received yesterday your letter of the 20th past, from
Dresden, where I am glad to find that you are arrived safe and sound.
This has been everywhere an 'annus mirabilis' for bad weather, and it
continues here still. Everybody has fires, and their winter clothes, as
at Christmas. The town is extremely sickly; and sudden deaths have been
very frequent.

I do not know what to s