How Pitt is succeeding, and aiming to succeed, on the French Foreign Settlements: on the Guinea Coast, on the High Seas everywhere; in the West Indies; still more in the East,—where General Lally (that fiery O'MuLLALLY, famous since Fontenoy), missioned with "full-powers," as they call them, is raging up and down, about Madras and neighborhood, in a violent, impetuous, more and more bankrupt manner:—Of all this we can say nothing for the present, little at any time. Here are two facts of the financial sort, sufficiently illuminative. The much-expending, much-subsidying Government of France cannot now borrow except at 7 per cent Interest; and the rate of Marine Insurance has risen to 70 per cent. [Retzow, ii. 5.] One way and other, here is a Pitt clearly progressive; and a long-pending JENKINS'S-EAR QUESTION in a fair way to be settled!
Friedrich stays in Saxony about a month, inspecting and adjusting; thence to Breslau, for Winter-quarters. His Winter is like to be a sad and silent one, this time; with none of the gayeties of last Year; the royal heart heavy enough with many private sorrows, were there none of public at all! This is a word from him, two days after finishing Daun for the season:—
FRIEDRICH TO MYLORD MARISCHAL (at Colombier in Neufchatel).
"DRESDEN, 23d November, 1758.
"There is nothing left for us, MON CHER MYLORD, but to mingle and blend our weeping for the losses we have had. If my head were a fountain of tears, it would not suffice for the grief I feel.
"Our Campaign is over; and there has nothing come of it, on one side or the other, but the loss of a great many worthy people, the misery of a great many poor soldiers crippled forever, the ruin of some Provinces, the ravage, pillage and conflagration of some flourishing Towns. Exploits these which make humanity shudder: sad fruits of the wickedness and ambition of certain People in Power, who sacrifice everything to their unbridled passions! I wish you, MON CHER MYLORD, nothing that has the least resemblance to my destiny; and everything that is wanting to it. Your old friend, till death."—F. [OEuvres de Frederic, xx. 273.]