TO THE SAME. MY DEAR FRIEND; Dresden, 20th April, 1755. You are acquainted by this time with the great honours which the king has been pleased to confer upon Lord Essex and myself. We both owe them to the king and to the king alone. I was not surprized so much at his preferment, as at my own. Ambassador is the highest pitch one can arrive at in foreign affairs; and it has yet never failed of carrying those who have borne that title, to something great at home. All this will please you, because it pleases me. My embassy will not be a long one; and then I shall return to my country, my children and my friends. Tum noctes cœnæque Deum. I shall eat mutton at Coldbrook, and drink cyder at Newland. My brother Hanbury has thought fit, at last, to be reconciled to his nieces, with whom he had never any quarrel. I am not yet restored to his good graces; but continue to labour, or rather to caper, under the weight of his displeasure. I love Mrs. Hanbury with the greatest esteem, joined to my affection. Lady Essex loves her as well as I do: you cannot imagine how happy the Monmouth turnpike makes me. I hope some of the substantial people in the neighbourhood will take care of the work, that will enable me to fly between Newland and Coldbrook. The hurry I am in is not to be expressed; and the expense I must go through incredible. Think of me, my dear friend, in a state coach, with pages, &c. I hate form and ceremony, and am plunged into such a degree of them both, that I must measure every step I take. Placing myself on the wrong side of a person, is a great crime; and going half a yard too far to meet him is almost high treason. But you will be surprized when I tell you, that I understand all these things, and have studied them. I suppose you know that Lord and Lady Essex have resolved to come into Monmouthshire this summer; and I am pleased to find that Fanny still retains a great affection for that part of the world. She seems quite happy about her journey, and will fly about in her post chaise, for her lord will go upon the hills, as he is very fond of shooting. I must now tell you a story Superstition and Ignorance go together, and Cruelty generally follows them. Poland is still as dark as England was four hundred years ago. The people there have a notion, that a Jew's child will never see, unless his eyes are rubbed with Christian blood. I inquired upon what foundation such a belief had been introduced; and was told by a bishop, that about two hundred years ago, a ship that belonged to some Jews, freighted with wine, was stranded upon the coast of Crim Tartary, and the Tartars plundered it. In one of the hogsheads was found a small runlet filled with blood, which these Jews confessed to be Chris tians blood for their childrens eyes. Upon this improbable foundation, the Poles have established their faith; which, however, I believe they would not have done, unless they had found their account in it; for, at present, whenever a Jew in Poland is suspected of the unpardonable crime of being rich, some villainous Pole kills a Christian child, and, in the night time, lays it before the Jew's door, and, the corpse being found there in the morning, is looked upon to be a sufficient proof of the murder; and the Jew, unless he can buy himself off, is burnt. I am almost ashamed to tell wretches were burnt poor upon you, that this sort of nine proof when I was last in Poland. I talked to many of the best and wisest persons upon this subject; but the church of Rome has wisely banished reason out of her religion; and, therefore, all argument, even in the cause of mercy, is reckoned blasphemy. I am really persuaded that the religion of Mahomet comes nearer to the doctrine of Christ, than that of the church |