And yet—though joy flew to his bosom with such exalting delight, when
that joy had spent its first effervescence; when, exhausted by its own
eager ebullition, it subsided into quiet thankfulness—did Dr. Burney
find himself in the same state of self-gratulation at the position of
his daughter, as before that blight which bereaved her of Mrs. Delany?
did he experience the same vivid glow of pleasure in her destination,
that he had felt previously to that tremendous national tempest that
had shaken the palace, and shattered all its dwellers, through terror,
watchfulness, and sorrow?
Alas, no! the charm was broken, the curtain was dropt! the scene was
changed by unlooked-for contingencies; and a catastrophe of calamity
seemed menacing his peace, that was precisely the reverse of all that
the opening of this part of his life’s drama had appeared to augur of
felicity.
The health of his daughter fell visibly into decay; her looks were
alarmingly altered; her strength was daily enfeebling; and the native
vivacity of her character and spirits was palpably sinking from
premature internal debility.
Nevertheless, not the first, nor even the twentieth, was Dr. Burney to
remark this change. Natively unsuspicious of evil, the pleasure with
which his sight always lighted up the countenance of his daughter, kept
him long in ignorance of the threatening decline which, to almost all
others who beheld her, was apparent. But when her family and friends
perceived his delusion, they conceived it to be more kind to give him
timely alarm, than to leave him to make the discovery himself—perhaps
too late. They agreed, therefore, after various consultations, to point
out to him the aspect of danger.
This indeed, was a blight to close, in sickly mists, the most brilliant
avenues of his parental ambition. It was a shock of the deepest
disappointment, that the one amongst his progeny on whom fortune had
seemed most to smile, should be threatened with lingering dissolution,
through the very channel in which she appeared to be gliding to honour
and favour; and that he, her hope-beguiled parent, must now, at all
mundane risks, snatch her away from every mundane advantage; or incur
the perilous chance of weeping over her precipitated grave.
Yet, where such seemed the alternative, there could be no hesitation:
the tender parent took place of the provident friend, and his decision
was immediate to recal the invalid from all higher worldly aspirations
to her retired natal home.
The gratitude of his daughter at this paternal tenderness rose to
her eyes, in her then weakened state, with constant tears every time
it occurred to her mind; for well she knew how many a gay hope, and
glowing fond idea, must be sacrificed by so retrograde a measure.
Medical aid was, however, called in; but no prescription was
efficacious: no further room, therefore, was left for demur, and with
the sanction, or rather by the direction of her kind father, she
addressed a letter to the Queen—having first besought and obtained her
Majesty’s leave for taking so direct a course.
In this letter, the Memorialist unreservedly represented the
altered state of her health; with the fears of her father that her
constitution would be utterly undermined, unless it could be restored
by retirement from all official exertions. She supplicated, therefore,
her Majesty’s permission to give in her resignation, with her humblest
acknowledgments for all the extraordinary goodness that had been shown
to her; the remembrance of which would be ever gratefully and indelibly
engraven on her heart.
Scarcely with more reluctance was this letter delivered than it was
received; and as painful to Dr. Burney were the conflicting scenes that
followed this step, as had been the apprehensions by which it had been
produced. The Queen was moved even to tears at the prospect of losing a
faithful attendant, whom she had considered as consecrated to her for
life; and on whose attachment she had the firmest reliance: and the
reluctance with which she turned from the separation led to modifying
propositions, so condescendingly urgent, that the plan of retreat was
soon nearly melted away from grateful devotion.
To withstand any kindness is ungenial to all feeling; to withstand
that which a Sovereign deigns to display is revolting to the orders of
society. The last person upon earth was Dr. Burney for such a species
of offence; from week, therefore, to week, and from month to month,
this uncertain state of things continued, and his daughter kept to her
post; though, from the view of her changed appearance, there was almost
an outcry in their own little world at such continual delay.
In no common manner, indeed, was Dr. Burney beset to adhere to his
purpose; he was invoked, conjured, nay, exhorted, by calls and
supplications from the most distinguished of his friends, which,
however gratifying to his parental feelings, were distressful to his
loyal ideas from his conviction that the gracious wish of detention
sprung from a belief that the restoration of the invalid might be
effected without relinquishing her place.