We are now, after a very short recess, engaged in a great hurry of
business, which will probably last a great while. I find however
time, and a good deal of time (without fatiguing myself too much),
for the occupation which after all is the pleasure, and I hope,
the honour of my life. In your last letter you ask whether your
remaining at Bath is necessary to my tranquility. I can answer that
question in the clearest manner, and, while I answer it, I must feel
with gratitude how kindly it is proposed. It _is_ necessary for
my happiness that you should not be _forced_ to leave Bath by any
difficulties which it would be my duty to remove: nor could I enjoy
the comfort of any situation which was purchased at the expence of
your ease and happiness. But if your retiring from Bath was the
effect of your own inclination, it is impossible that I could be
hurt at your leaving a place which I should never visit but on your
account; and I should visit you with at least as much pleasure in
a country retirement as in that scene of (what has always appeared
to me) very awkward gaiety. But surely it is better to suspend any
decisive resolution for the present. I was happy to hear from General
Frazer, a very favourable account of your health & spirits.
I am, Dear Madam,
Ever yours,
E. G.
373.
_To Mrs. Holroyd._
April 30th, 1779.
You easily conceive my reasons for not answering your Epistle. The
Major is with me as I believe; I say--as I believe, because the House
of Commons takes me up so entirely that we have scarcely seen each
other. He is as usual hurried, flurried, taken up with innumerable
business and wishing to be quiet. He looks better than I expected,
but he complains of heat, and want of sleep, and I have persuaded
him to consult Heberden.--What does your Ladyship mean by preferring
the Regiment to Bentinck Street? It is my intention before you march
into the West, you should take a moderate taste of the amusements of
the Civilized World. I am glad to hear a favourable account of the
Infants: but am much at a loss to understand how Maria can so far
forget her I. S. as to break her engagement of sending me a French
letter. Yet I embrace her as well as her Mama. Adieu.
[Sidenote: THE MINISTRY CRESTFALLEN.]
374.
_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._
Saturday night, May, 1779.
*Alas! alas! fourteen Ships of the line:[432] you understand by this
time that you have not got a single long-boat. Ministry are more
crestfallen than I ever knew them, with the last intelligence; and I
am sorry to say, that I see a smile of triumph on some opposition
faces. Though the business of the West Indies may still produce
something, I am much afraid that we shall [have] a campaign of
immense expence, and little or no action. The most busy scene is at
present in the House of C.; and we shall be involved, during a great
[part] of next month, in tedious, fruitless, but, in my opinion,
proper Enquiries.
You see how difficult it would be for me to visit Brighton; and I
fancy I must content myself with receiving you on your passage to
Ireland. Indeed, I much want to have a _very serious_ conversation
with you. Another reason, which must in a great measure pin me to
Bentinck-street, is the decline and fall. I have resolved to bring
out the _suite_ in the course of next year; and, though I have been
tolerably diligent, so much remains to be done, that I can hardly
spare a single day from the Shop. I can guess but one reason which
should prevent you from supposing that the picture of Leicester
Fields was intended for Sheffield library;[433] _viz._ my having
told you some time ago that I was under a formal engagement to Mr.
Walpole. Probably I should not have been in any great hurry to
execute my promise, if Mr. Cadell had not strenuously urged the
curiosity of [the] public, who may be willing to repay the exorbitant
price of _fifty_ Guineas. It is now finished, and my friends say,
that, in every sense of the word, it is a good head. Next week
it will be given to Hall the Engraver, and I promise you a first
Impression. If I were a rich man you should have a similar picture.
Adieu. I embrace my lady, and infants.*