ellert fell seriously ill in December, 1769;
to the fear and grief of all the world: "estafettes from the Kurfurst
himself galloped daily, or oftener, from Dresden for the sick bulletin;"
but poor Gellert died, all the same (13th of that month); and we have
(really with pathetic thoughts, even we) to bid his amiable existence in
this world, his bits of glories and him, adieu forever.

DIALOGUE WITH GENERAL SALDERN (in the Apel House, Leipzig, 21st January,
1761).

Four or five weeks after this of Gellert, Friedrich had another
Dialogue, which also is partly on record, and is of more importance to
us here: Dialogue with Major-General Saldern; on a certain business,
delicate, yet profitable to the doer,--nobody so fit for it as Saldern,
thinks the King. Saldern is he who did that extraordinary feat
of packing the wrecks of battle on the Field of Liegnitz; a fine,
clear-flowing, silent kind of man, rapid and steady; with a great deal
of methodic and other good faculty in him,--more, perhaps, than he
himself yet knows of. Him the King has sent for, this morning; and it
is on the business of Polish Majesty's Royal Hunting-Schloss at
Hubertsburg,--which is a thing otherwise worth some notice from us.

For three months long the King had been representing, in the proper
quarters, what plunderings, and riotous and even disgusting
savageries, the Saxons had perpetrated at Charlottenburg, Schonhausen,
Friedrichsfeld, in October last, while masters there for a few days: but
neither in Reichs Diet, where Plotho was eloquent, nor elsewhere by the
Diplomatic method, could he get the least redress, or one civil word of
regret. From Polish Majesty himself, to whom Friedrich remonstrated the
matter, through the English Resident at Warsaw, Friedrich had expected
regret; but he got none. Some think he had hoped that Polish Majesty,
touched by these horrors of war, and by the reciprocities evidently
liable to follow, might be induced to try something towards mediating
a General Peace: but Polish Majesty did not; Polish Majesty answered
simply nothing at all, nor would get into any correspondence: upon which
Friedrich, possibly a little piqued withal, had at length determined on
retaliation.

Within our cantonments, reflects Friedrich, here is Hubertsburg Schloss,
with such a hunting apparatus in and around it; Polish Majesty's
HERTZBLATT ("lid of the HEART," as they call it; breastbone, at least,
and pit of his STOMACH, which incl