MY DEAR FRIEND: Your last letter, of the 5th, gave me as much pleasure as your former had given me uneasiness; and Larpent’s acknowledgment of his negligence frees you from those suspicions, which I own I did entertain, and which I believe every one would, in the same concurrence of circumstances, have entertained. So much for that.
You may depend upon what I promised you, before midsummer next, at farthest, and AT LEAST.
All I can say of the affair between you, of the Corps Diplomatique, and the Saxon Ministers, is, ‘que voila bien du bruit pour une omelette au lard’. It will most certainly be soon made up; and in that negotiation show yourself as moderate and healing as your instructions from hence will allow, especially to Comte de Flemming. The King of Prussia, I believe, has a mind to insult him personally, as an old enemy, or else to quarrel with Saxony, that dares not quarrel with him; but some of the Corps Diplomatique here assure me it is only a pretense to recall his envoy, and to send, when matters shall be made up, a little secretary there, ‘a moins de fraix’, as he does now to Paris and London.
Comte Bruhl is much in fashion here; I like him mightily; he has very much ‘le ton de la bonne campagnie’. Poor Schrader died last Saturday, without the least pain or sickness. God bless you!
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