P.S.--I recollect that my last letter was a little melancholy; this, to
be sure, has a grain or two of national vanity; why, I must own I am a
miserable philosopher; the weather of the hour does affect me. I cannot
here, at a distance from the world and unconcerned in it, help feeling a
little satisfaction when my country is successful; yet, tasting its
honours and elated with them, I heartily, seriously wish they had their
_quietus_. What is the fame of men compared to their happiness? Who
gives a nation peace, gives tranquillity to all. How many must be
wretched, before one can be renowned! A hero bets the lives and fortunes
of thousands, whom he has no right to game with: but alas! Caesars have
little regard to their fish and counters!
_RESIGNATION OF LORD BUTE--FRENCH VISITORS--WALPOLE AND NO. 45._