WINDSOR.

Sir Joshua Reynolds, Horace Walpole, and all the Burkes, were potent

accomplices in this kind and singular conspiracy; which, at last, was

suddenly superseded by so obviously a dilapidated state of health

in its object, as to admit of no further procrastination; and this

uncommon struggle at length ended by the entrance at Windsor of a

successor to the invalid, in July, 1791; when, though with nearly as

much regret as eagerness, Dr. Burney fetched his daughter from the

palace; to which, exactly five years previously, he had conveyed her

with unmixed delight.

It is here a duty—a fair and a willing one—to mention, that in an

audience of leave-taking to which the Memorialist was admitted just

before her departure, the Queen had the gracious munificence to insist

that half the salary annexed to the resigned office should be retained:

and when the Memorialist, from fullness of heart, and the surprise

of gratitude, would have declined, though with the warmest and most

respectful acknowledgments, a remuneration to which she had never

looked forward, the Queen, without listening to her resistance, deigned

to express the softest regret that it was not convenient to her to do

more.[19]

All of ill health, fatigue, or suffering, that had worked the necessity

for this parting, was now, at this moment of its final operation,

sunk in tender gratitude, or lost in the sorrow of leave-taking;

and the Memorialist could difficultly articulate, in retiring, a

single sentence of her regret or her attachment: while the Queen, the

condescending Queen, with weeping eyes, laid her fair hand upon the arm

of the Memorialist, repeatedly and gently wishing her happy—“well,

and happy!” And all the Princesses were graciously demonstrative of a

concern nearly amounting to emotion, in pronouncing their adieus. Even

the King, the benign King himself, coming up to her, with an evident

intention to wish her well, as he entered the apartment that she was

quitting, wore an aspect of so much pity for her broken health, that,

utterly overpowered by the commiserating expression of his benevolent

countenance, she was obliged, instead of murmuring her thanks, and

curtseying her farewell, abruptly to turn from him to an adjoining

window, to hide a grateful sensibility of his goodness that she could

neither subdue, nor venture to manifest.

A minute or two he deigned to wait in silence her resumption of

self-command, that he might speak to her; but finding she could not

enough recover to look round, he moved silently, and not very fast,

away; taking with him a fervency of prayers and blessings that issued

from the heart’s core of his humblest, but most grateful subject.

No one, not even the bitterest of his political enemies, could have

passed five years under the roof of his Majesty George the Third,

and have seen him, whether overwhelmed by the most baneful of

calamities, or brightened by the most unexampled popularity, always,

through every vicissitude, save in the immediate paroxysms of his

malady, HIMSELF unchanged, in zeal for his people; in tender

affection for his family; and in the kindliest benevolence for all

his household—without looking up to him with equal reverence and

attachment, as a being of the most stainless INTENTIONAL

purity both in principle and in conduct.

1791.

Arrived again at the natal home, Dr. Burney welcomed back his daughter

with the most cheering tenderness. All the family,—and in the same

line in partial affection,—Mr. and Mrs. Locke, hastened to hail and

propitiate her return; and congratulatory hopes and wishes for the

speedy restoration of her health poured in upon the Doctor from all

quarters.

But chiefly Mrs. Crewe, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and Messrs. Windham,

Horace Walpole, and Seward, started forward, by visits or by letters,

upon this restitution, with greetings almost tumultuous; so imbued had

been their minds with the belief that change of scene and change of

life, alone could retard a change more fatal.

Memoirs of Doctor Burney (Vol. 3 of 3) Arranged from his own manuscripts, from family papers, and from personal recollections by his daughter, Madame d'Arblay · 第 47 / 143 题