but alas! we are too imperfect to see on all sides; our wisest reflections (if the word wise may be given to humanity) are tainted by our hopes and fears; we all indulge views almost as extravagant as those of Phaeton, and are angry when we do not succeed in projects that are above the reach of mortality. The happiness of domestic life. seems the most laudable as it is certainly the most delightful of our prospects, yet even that is denied, or at least so mixed, "we think it not sincere, or fear it cannot last." A long series of disappointments have perhaps worn out my natural spirits, and given a melancholy cast to my way of thinking. I would not communicate this weakness to any but yourself, who can have compassion even where your superior understanding condemns. I confess that though I am (it may be) beyond the strict bounds of reason pleased with my Lord Bute's and my daughter's prosperity, I am doubtful whether I will attempt to be a spectator of it. I have so many years indulged my natural inclinations to solitude and reading, I am unwilling to return to crowds and bustle, which would be unavoidable in London. The few friends I esteemed are now no more: the new set of people who fill the stage at present are too indifferent to me even to raise my curiosity. I now begin to feel (very late, you'll say) the worst effects of age, blindness excepted; I am grown timorous and suspicious; I fear the inconstancy of that goddess so publicly adored in ancient Rome, and so heartily inwardly worshipped in the modern. I retain, however, such a degree of that uncommon thing called common sense, not to trouble the felicity of my children with my foreboding dreams, which I hope will prove as idle as the croaking of ravens, or the noise of that harmless animal distinguished by the odious name of screech-owl. You will say why then do I trouble you with my old wives' prophecies ? Need I tell you that it is one of the privileges of friendship to talk of our own follies and infirmities? You must, then, nay you ought, to pardon my tiresome tattle in consideration of the real attachment with which I am unalterably, sir, Your obliged and faithful humble servant. My best compliments to dear Lady Fanny, and congratulations to the young gentleman. I do not doubt he is sorry to leave her; but if it be necessary for his advancement, you will teach him to suffer it at least with patience. To SIR JAMES STEUART. July 22, 1761. SIR,-I expect you should wish me joy on the good fortune of a friend I esteem in the highest manner. I have always preferred the interest of those I love to my own. You need not doubt my sincere affection towards the lady and young gentleman you mention. My own affairs here grow worse and worse; my indiscreet well-wishers do me as much harm, more harm than any declared enemy could do. The notable plan of our great politician is to make me surrender my little castle; I, with the true spirit of old Whiggism, resolve to keep my ground, though I starve in the maintaining it, or am eat up by the wild beasts of the wood, meaning gnats and flies. A word to the wise; you understand me. You may have heard of a facetious gentleman vulgarly called Tom Earle, i.e. Giles Earle,' Esq. His toast was always— "God bless you, whatever becomes of me!" The day when hungry friar wishes, TO SIR JAMES AND LADY FRANCES STEUart. [Indorsed, "Oct. 1st, 1761, Augsburg, on her way from Venice to England; received 3rd of Nov."] MADAM AND SIR,-I am now part of my way to England, where I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you: it is so long since I have heard from you, I cannot guess where you are. A lord of the Treasury. See Honourable Horace Walpole's Letters to Sir Horace Mann, Dec. 16, 1741, for an account of a debate and a division upon the occasion of the election of the chairman of the committees of the House of Commons, in which some account of this gentleman is to be found.-W. I venture this to Tubingen, though I fancy two letters I have directed thither have miscarried, and am so uncertain of the fate of this I know not what to say. I think I cannot err in repeating a sincere truth, that I am, and ever shall be, faithfully, Your most humble servant. Since I wrote the above, I am told I may go by Wurtemberg to Frankfort. I will then take that road in hopes of seeing you. TO SIR JAMES STEUART. Rotterdam, Nov. 20, 1761. SIR, I received yesterday your obliging and welcome letter by the hands of Mr. Simpson. I tried in vain to find you at Amsterdam; I began to think we resembled two parallel lines, destined to be always near and never to meet. You know there is no fighting (at least no overcoming) destiny. So far I am a confirmed Calvinist, according to the notions of the country where I now exist. I am dragging my ragged remnant of life to England. The wind and tide are against me; how far I have strength to struggle against both I know not; that I am arrived here is as much a miracle as any in the golden legend; and if I had foreseen half the difficulties I have met with, I should not certainly have had courage to undertake it. I have scrambled through more dangers than his M. of P. [His Majesty of Prussia], or even my well-beloved cousin (not counsellor) Marquis Granby; but my spirits fail me when I think of my friends risking either health or happiness. I will write to Lady Fanny to hinder your coming to Rotterdam, and will sooner make one jump more myself to wait on you at Antwerp. I am glad poor D. has sold his medals. I confess I thought his buying them a very bold stroke. I supposed that he had already left London, but am told that he has been prevented by the machinations of that excel 1 Lord Granby married the daughter af Charles sixth Duke of Somerset, by his wife the youngest daughter of Daniel Earl of Winchilsea and Nottingham; whose wife was the daughter of Basil Earl Fielding and Lady Mary's first cousin.-W. lent politician and truly great man, M. [Murray], and his ministry. My dear Lady Fanny, I am persuaded that you are more nearly concerned for the health of Sir James than he is himself. I address myself to you, to insist on it to him, not to undertake a winter progress in the beginning of a fit of the gout. I am nailed down here by a severe illness of my poor Marianne,' who has not been able to endure the frights and fatigues that we have passed. If I live to see G. Britain, you will have there a sincere and faithful servant that will omit no occasion of serving you; and I think it almost impossible I should not succeed. You must be loved and esteemed wherever you are known. Give me leave, however, dear madam, to combat some of your notions, or, more properly speaking, your passions. Mr. Steuart is in a situation that opens the fairest prospect of honour and advancement. We mothers are apt to regret the absence of children we love: Solomon advises the sluggard to go to the ant and be wise: we should take the example of the innocent inhabitants of the air; when their young are fledged, they are delighted to see them fly and peck for themselves. Forgive this freedom. I have no other receipt for maternal fondness, a distemper which has long afflicted Your ladyship's obliged and obedient humble servant. To SIR JAMES STEUART. Rotterdam, Dec. 12, 1761. I RECEIVED last post your agreeable and obliging letter. I am now on the point of setting out for London; very dubious (with my precarious state of health) whether I shall arrive there. If I do, you will certainly hear from me again; if not, accept ('tis all I can offer) my sincerest wishes for the prosperity of yourself and family. I do not 1 Her servant, Mary Anne Smith, called in Lady Mary's will Fromenta.-T. at all despair of your affairs going according to your desire, though I am not ordained the happiness to see it. My warmest compliments to Lady F., and believe me ever, sir, Your faithful friend and humble servant. Behold! a hard impenetrable frost has stopped my voyage, and I remain in the disagreeable state of uncertainty. I will not trouble you with my fruitless complaints: I am sure you have compassion for my present situation. TO LADY FRANCES STEUart. Rotterdam, Dec., 1761. MY DEAR MADAM,—A great snow, weak sight, trouble of mind, and a feeble body, are more than sufficient excuses for a short letter; yet I would not omit a few lines to give you thanks for yours, and repeat to you my real desire to serve you in the most zealous manner. Any relation of Sir James will find a hearty welcome from me when I am in London. I now depend on wind and weather; you know how disagreeable that is. I will not afflict your good heart with my uneasinesses. I hope (and am determined to hope) the best, though in contradiction to appearances. In all humours I am Your ladyship's faithful humble servant. P.S. My dear Lady Fanny, we are both low-spirited; let us talk no more of melancholy matters. I should be glad to know the adventure of Sir James with the Countess B., and am sometimes tempted to seek her out, in hopes to edify by her discourse and example. To SIR JAMES STEUART. Rotterdam, Dec. 26, 1761. SIR, The thaw is now so far advanced I am in great hopes of moving in a few days. My first care at London will be your affairs: I think it almost impossible I should not succeed. You may assure Lady Fanny no endeavour shall be wanting on my side: if I find any material objec |