Most sincerely do I condole with you on the effects of Fanaticism.
That furious principle which has sometimes overturned Nations has
in this instance indeed been contented with unsettling the reason
of a Cook: but the domestic Calamity must have been attended with
very unpleasant circumstances, and I shall think it a very happy
Catastrophe when the poor Wretch is safely and quietly lodged in
Bedlam.
198.
_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._
May 4th, 1774.
*Last night was the Triumph of Boodle's. Our Masquerade cost two
thousand Guineas; a sum that might have fertilized a Province, (I
speak in your own style,) vanished in a few hours, but not without
leaving behind it the fame of the most splendid and elegant Fête that
was perhaps ever given in a seat of the Arts and Opulence. It would
be as difficult to describe the magnificence of the Scene, as it
would be easy to record the humour of the night. The one was above,
the other below, all relation. I left the Pantheon about five this
morning, rose at ten, took a good Walk, and returned home to a more
rational entertainment of Batt, Sir John [Russel], and Lascelles, who
dined with me. They have left me this moment; and were I to enumerate
the things said of Sheffield, it would form a much longer letter than
I have any inclination to write. Let it suffice, that Sir John means
to pass in Sussex the interval of the two terms. Every thing, in a
word, goes on very pleasantly, except the terrestrial business of
Lenborough. Last Saturday se'nnight I wrote to Richard, to press him
to see Lovegrove, and urge the Arbitration. He has not _condescended_
to answer me. All is a dead Calm, sometimes more fatal than a storm.
For God's sake send me Advice. I seem to be in a much worse situation
than before I agreed with him.*
Adieu. My Lady's and Maria's healths were drank unanimously to-day.
Deyverdun sets off for Lausanne in about ten or twelve days with Lord
Middleton, Tommy Townshend's Nephew.
199.
_To his Stepmother._
Boodle's, May 24th, 1774.