; planless, changeful,
powerless, melting into futility at every step:--not to be mended by
imprisonments in Gratz, and still harsher treatment of individuals. "Has
all success forsaken me, then, since Eugene died?" said the Kaiser; and
snatched at this Turk Peace; glad to have it, by mediation of France,
and on any terms.

Has not this Kaiser lost his outlying properties at a fearful rate?
Naples is gone; Spanish Bourbon sits in our Naples; comparatively
little left for us in Italy. And now the very Turk has beaten us small;
insolently fillips the Imperial nose of us,--threatening to hang our
Neipperg, and the like. Were it not for Anne of Russia, whose big
horse-whip falls heavy on this Turk, he might almost get to Vienna
again, for anything we could do! A Kaiser worthy to be pitied;--whom
Friedrich Wilhelm, we perceive, does honestly pity. A Kaiser much
beggared, much disgraced, in late years; who has played a huge life-game
so long, diplomatizing, warring; and, except the Shadow of Pragmatic
Sanction, has nothing to retire upon.

The Russians protested, with astonishment, against such Turk Peace on
the Kaiser's part. But there was no help for it. One ally is gone, the
Kaiser has let go this Western skirt of the Turk; and "Thamas Kouli
Khan" (called also Nadir Shah, famed Oriental slasher and slayer of that
time) no longer stands upon the Eastern skirt, but "has entered India,"
it appears: the Russians--their cash, too, running low--do themselves
make peace, "about a month after;" restoring Azoph and nearly all their
conquests; putting off the ruin of the Turk till a better time.

War is over in the East, then; but another in the West, England against
Spain (Spain and France to help), is about beginning. Readers remember
how Jenkins's Ear re-emerged, Spring gone a year, in a blazing
condition? Here, through SYLVANUS URBAN himself, are two direct
glimpses, a twelve-month nearer hand, which show us how the matter has
been proceeding since:--

"LONDON, 19th FEBRUARY, 1739. The City Authorities,"--laying or going to
lay "the foundation of the Mansion-House" (Edifice now very black in our
time), and doing other things of little moment to us, "had a Masquerade
at the Guildhall this night. There was a very splendid appearance at the
Masquerade; but among the many humorous and whimsical characters, what
seemed most to engage attention was a Spaniard, who called himself
'Knight of the Ear;' as Badge of which Order he wore