STRAWBERRY HILL, _May_ 6, 1770.
If you are like me, you are fretting at the weather. We have not a leaf,
yet, large enough to make an apron for a Miss Eve of two years old.
Flowers and fruits, if they come at all this year, must meet together as
they do in a Dutch picture; our lords and ladies, however, couple as if
it were the real _Gioventù dell' anno_. Lord Albemarle, you know, has
disappointed all his brothers and my niece; and Lord Fitzwilliam is
declared _sposo_ to Lady Charlotte Ponsonby. It is a pretty match, and
makes Lord Besborough as happy as possible.
Masquerades proceed in spite of Church and King. That knave the Bishop
of London persuaded that good soul the Archbishop to remonstrate against
them; but happily the age prefers silly follies to serious ones, and
dominos, _comme de raison_, carry it against lawn sleeves.
There is a new Institution that begins to make, and if it proceeds, will
make a considerable noise. It is a club of _both_ sexes to be erected at
Almack's, on the model of that of the men of White's. Mrs. Fitzroy, Lady
Pembroke, Mrs. Meynell, Lady Molyneux, Miss Pelham, and Miss Loyd, are
the foundresses. I am ashamed to say I am of so young and fashionable a
society; but as they are people I live with, I choose to be idle rather
than morose. I can go to a young supper, without forgetting how much
sand is run out of the hour-glass. Yet I shall never pass a triste old
age in turning the Psalms into Latin or English verse. My plan is to
pass away calmly; cheerfully if I can; sometimes to amuse myself with
the rising generation, but to take care not to fatigue them, nor weary
them with old stories, which will not interest them, as their adventures
do not interest me. Age would indulge prejudices if it did not sometimes
polish itself against younger acquaintance; but it must be the work of
folly if one hopes to contract friendships with them, or desires it, or
thinks one can become the same follies, or expects that they should do
more than bear one for one's good-humour. In short, they are a pleasant
medicine, that one should take care not to grow fond of. Medicines hurt
when habit has annihilated their force; but you see I am in no danger. I
intend by degrees to decrease my opium, instead of augmenting the dose.
Good night! You see I never let our long-lived friendship drop, though
you give it so few opportunities of breathing.
_THE PRINCESS OF WALES IS GONE TO GERMANY--TERRIBLE ACCIDENT IN PARIS._