STRAWBERRY HILL, _July 7_, 1778.
You tell me in yours of the 23rd of last month, which I received to-day,
that my letters are necessary to your tranquillity. That is sufficient
to make me write, though I have nothing very positive to tell you. I did
not mention Admiral Keppel's skirmish with and capture of two frigates
of the Brest squadron; not because I thought it trifling, but concluding
that it would produce immediate declaration of war; and, for the fact
itself, I knew both our papers and the French would anticipate me.
Indeed, Sir John Dick has talked to me so much of his frequency and
punctuality with you, that I might have concluded he would not neglect
so public an event; not that I trust to anybody else for sending you
intelligence.
No Declaration has followed on either side. I, who know nothing but what
everybody knows, am disposed to hope that both nations are grown
rational; that is, humane enough to dislike carnage. Both kings are
pacific by nature, and the voice of Europe now prefers legislators to
_heroes_, which is but a name for destroyers of their species.
It is true, we are threatened with invasion.[1] You ask me why I seem to
apprehend less than formerly? For many reasons. In the first place, I am
above thirty years older. Can one fear anything in the dregs of life as
at the beginning? Experience, too, has taught me that nothing happens in
proportion to our conceptions. I have learnt, too, exceedingly to
undervalue human policy. Chance and folly counteract most of its wisdom.
From the "Mémoires de Noailles"[2] I have learnt, that, between the
years 1740 and 1750, when I,--ay, and my Lord Chesterfield too,--had
such gloomy thoughts, France was trembling with dread of us. These are
general reasons. My particular ones are, that, if France meditated a
considerable blow, she has neglected her opportunity. Last year, we had
neither army nor a manned fleet at home. Now, we have a larger and
better army than ever we had in the island, and a strong fleet. Within
these three days, our West India and Mediterranean fleets, for which we
have been in great pain, are arrived, and bring not only above two
millions, but such a host of sailors as will supply the deficiencies in
our unequipped men-of-war. The country is covered with camps; General
Conway, who has been to one of them, speaks with astonishment of the
fineness of the men, of the regiments, of their discipline and
manoeuvring. In short, the French Court has taught all our young
nobility to be soldiers. The Duke of Grafton, who was the most indolent
of ministers, is the most indefatigable of officers. For my part, I am
almost afraid that there will be a larger military spirit amongst our
men of quality than is wholesome for our constitution: France will have
done us hurt enough, if she has turned us into generals instead of
senators.
[Footnote 1: The design of invading England, first conceived by Philip
II. of Spain and the Duke of Parma, had been entertained also by Louis
XIV.; and after Walpole's death ostentatious preparations for such an
expedition were made in 1805 by Napoleon. But some years afterwards
Napoleon told Metternich, the Austrian Prime Minister, that he had never
really designed to undertake the enterprise, being convinced of the
impossibility of succeeding in it, and that the sole object of his
preparations and of the camp at Boulogne had been to throw Austria off
her guard.]
[Footnote 2: The Duc de Noailles had been the French Commander-in-chief
at the battle of Dettingen in 1743.]
I can conceive another reason why France should not choose to venture an
invasion. It is certain that at least five American provinces wish for
peace with us. Nor can I think that thirteen English provinces would be
pleased at seeing England invaded. Any considerable blow received by us,
would turn their new allies into haughty protectors. Should we accept a
bad peace, America would find her treaty with them a very bad one: in
short, I have treated you with speculations instead of facts. I know but
one of the latter sort. The King's army has evacuated Philadelphia, from
having eaten up the country, and has returned to New York. Thus it is
more compact, and has less to defend.
General Howe is returned, richer in money than laurels. I do not know,
indeed, that his wealth is great.
Fanaticism in a nation is no novelty; but you must know, that, though
the effects were so solid, the late appearance of enthusiasm about Lord
Chatham was nothing but a general affectation of enthusiasm. It was a
contention of hypocrisy between the Opposition and the Court, which did
not last even to his burial. Not three of the Court attended it, and not
a dozen of the Minority of any note. He himself said, between his fall
in the House of Lords and his death, that, when he came to himself, not
one of his old acquaintance of the Court but Lord Despencer so much as
asked how he did. Do you imagine people are struck with the death of a
man, who were not struck with the sudden appearance of his death? We do
not counterfeit so easily on a surprise, as coolly; and, when we are
cool on surprise, we do not grow agitated on reflection.
The last account I heard from Germany was hostile. Four days ago both
the Imperial and Prussian Ministers[1] expected news of a battle. O, ye
fathers of your people, do you thus dispose of your children? How many
thousand lives does a King save, who signs a peace! It was said in jest
of our Charles II., that he was the real _father_ of his people, so many
of them did he beget himself. But tell me, ye divines, which is the most
virtuous man, he who begets twenty bastards, or he who sacrifices a
hundred thousand lives? What a contradiction is human nature! The Romans
rewarded the man who got three children, and laid waste the world. When
will the world know that peace and propagation are the two most
delightful things in it? As his Majesty of France has found out the
latter, I hope he will not forget the former.
[Footnote 1: Towards the close of 1777 Maximilian, the Elector of
Bavaria, died, and the Emperor Joseph claimed many of his fiefs as
having escheated to him. Frederic the Great, who was still jealous of
Austria, endeavoured to form a league to aid the new Elector in his
resistance to Joseph's demands, and even invaded Bohemia with an army of
eighty thousand men; but the Austrian army was equally strong. No action
of any importance took place; and in the spring of 1779 the treaty of
Teschen was concluded between the Empire, Prussia, and Bavaria, by which
a small portion of the district claimed by Joseph was ceded to Austria.]
_SUGGESTION OF NEGOTIATIONS WITH FRANCE--PARTITION OF POLAND._