_Wednesday, Jan. 10, 1787._--This morning, when I was hurrying to
the queen, I met Mr. Fairly, who said he was waiting to see me. Very
melancholy he looked-very much changed from what I had seen him. His
lady, to whom he is much attached, is suffering death by inches, from
the most painful of all complaints, a cancer. His eldest son, who seems
about twelve years old, was with him. He was going, he said, to place
him at Eton.
The day following I was taken very ill myself; a bilious fever, long
lurking, suddenly seized me, and a rheumatism in my head at the same
time. I was forced to send to Mr. Battiscombe for advice, and to Miss
Planta to officiate for me at night with the queen.
Early the next morning Miss Planta came to me from the queen, to desire
I would not be uneasy in missing my attendance, and that I would think
of nothing but how to take care of myself. This, however, was not all,
for soon after she came herself, not only to my room, but to my bedside,
and, after many enquiries, desired me to say sincerely what I should do
if I had been so attacked at home.
A blister, I said, was all I could devise; and I had one accordingly,
which cured the head, and set me at ease. But the fever had been long
gathering, and would not so rapidly be dismissed. I kept my bed this day
and the next. The third day I was sufficiently better to quit my bed and
bedroom; and then I had not only another visit from the queen, but also
from the two eldest princesses.
_Tuesday, Jan. 16_--Was the day appointed for removing to town for
the winter; from which time we were only to come to Windsor for an
occasional day or two every week.
I received a visit, just before I set out, from the king. He came in
alone, and made most gracious enquiries into my health, and whether I
was sufficiently recovered for the journey.
The four days of my confinement, from the fever after the pain, were
days of meditation the most useful: I reflected upon all my mental
sufferings in the last year; their cause seemed inadequate to their
poignancy. In the hour of sickness and confinement, the world, in losing
its attractions, forfeits its regrets:--a new train of thinking, a new
set of ideas, took possession of all my faculties; a steady plan, calm,
yet no longer sad, deliberately formed itself in my mind; my affliction
was already subsided; I now banished, also, discontent. I found myself
as well off, upon reflection, as I could possibly merit, and better, by
comparison, than most of those around me. The beloved friends of my own
heart had joined me unalterably, inviolably to theirs--who, in number,
who, in kindness, has more?
Now, therefore, I took shame to myself, and resolved to be. And my
success has shown me how far less chimerical than it appears is such
a resolution. To be patient under two disappointments now no longer
recent;--to relinquish, without repining, frequent intercourse with
those I love;--to settle myself in my monastery, without one idea of
ever quitting it; to study for the approbation of my lady abbess, and
make it a principal source of content, as well as spring of action;--and
to associate more cheerily with my surrounding nuns and monks;--these
were the articles which were to support my resolution.
I thank God I can tell my dearest friends I have observed them all; and,
from the date of this illness to the time in which I am now drawing
out my memorandums, I can safely affirm I know not that I have made one
break with myself in a single promise here projected.
And now, I thank God, the task is at an end;-what I began from
principle, and pursued from resolution, is now a mere natural conduct.
My destiny is fixed, and my mind is at ease; nay, I even think, upon the
whole, that my lot is, altogether, the best that can betide me, except
for one flaw in its very vitals, which subjects me at times, to a
tyranny wholly subversive of all power of tranquillity.