BLACKHEATH, September 3, 1764.
DEAR FRIEND: I have received your letter of the 13th past. I see that
your complete arrangement approaches, and you need not be in a hurry to
give entertainments, since so few others do.
Comte Flemming is the man in the world the best calculated to retrieve
the Saxon finances, which have been all this century squandered and
lavished with the most absurd profusion: he has certainly abilities, and
I believe integrity; I dare answer for him, that the gentleness and
flexibility of his temper will not prevail with him to yield to the
importunities of craving and petulant applications. I see in him another
Sully; and therefore I wish he were at the head of our finances.
France and Spain both insult us, and we take it too tamely; for this is,
in my opinion, the time for us to talk high to them. France, I am
persuaded, will not quarrel with us till it has got a navy at least equal
to ours, which cannot be these three or four years at soonest; and then,
indeed, I believe we shall hear of something or other; therefore, this is
the moment for us to speak loud; and we shall be feared, if we do not
show that we fear.
Here is no domestic news of changes and chances in the political world;
which, like oysters, are only in season in the R months, when the
parliament sits. I think there will be some then, but of what kind, God
knows.
I have received a book for you, and one for myself, from Harte. It is
upon agriculture, and will surprise you, as I confess it did me. This
work is not only in English, but good and elegant English; he has even
scattered graces upon his subject; and in prose, has come very near
Virgil’s “Georgics” in verse. I have written to him, to congratulate his
happy transformation. As soon as I can find an opportunity, I will send
you your copy. You (though no Agricola) will read it with pleasure.