Ashbourne, July 21. 'The tenderness with which I am treated by my
friends, makes it reasonable to suppose that they are desirous to know
the state of my health, and a desire so benevolent ought to be
gratified. I came to Lichfield in two days without any painful fatigue,
and on Monday came hither, where I purpose to stay: and try what air and
regularity will effect. I cannot yet persuade myself that I have made
much progress in recovery. My sleep is little, my breath is very much
encumbered, and my legs are very weak. The water has encreased a little,
but has again run off. The most distressing symptom is want of sleep.'
August 19. 'Having had since our separation, little to say that could
please you or myself by saying, I have not been lavish of useless
letters; but I flatter myself that you will partake of the pleasure with
which I can now tell you that about a week ago, I felt suddenly a
sensible remission of my asthma, and consequently a greater lightness of
action and motion. Of this grateful alleviation I know not the cause,
nor dare depend upon its continuance, but while it lasts I endeavour to
enjoy it, and am desirous of communicating, while it lasts, my pleasure
to my friends. Hitherto, dear Sir, I had written before the post, which
stays in this town but a little while, brought me your letter. Mr.
Davies seems to have represented my little tendency to recovery in terms
too splendid. I am still restless, still weak, still watery, but the
asthma is less oppressive. Poor Ramsay[1129]! On which side soever I
turn, mortality presents its formidable frown. I left three old friends
at Lichfield when I was last there, and now found them all dead. I no
sooner lose sight of dear Allen, than I am told that I shall see him no
more. That we must all die, we always knew; I wish I had sooner
remembered it. Do not think me intrusive or importunate, if I now call,
dear Sir, on you to remember it.'
Sept. 2. 'I am glad that a little favour from the court has intercepted
your furious purposes[1130]. I could not in any case have approved such
publick violence of resentment, and should have considered any who
encouraged it, as rather seeking sport for themselves, than honour for
you. Resentment gratifies him who intended an injury, and pains him
unjustly who did not intend it. But all this is now superfluous. I still
continue by GOD'S mercy to mend. My breath is easier, my nights are
quieter, and my legs are less in bulk, and stronger in use. I have,
however, yet a great deal to overcome, before I can yet attain even an
old man's health. Write, do write to me now and then; we are now old
acquaintance, and perhaps few people have lived so much and so long
together, with less cause of complaint on either side. The retrospection
of this is very pleasant, and I hope we shall never think on each other
with less kindness.'
Sept. 9. 'I could not answer your letter[1131] before this day, because
I went on the sixth to Chatsworth, and did not come back till the post
was gone. Many words, I hope, are not necessary between you and me, to
convince you what gratitude is excited in my heart, by the Chancellor's
liberality and your kind offices. I did not indeed expect that what was
asked by the Chancellor would have been refused[1132], but since it has,
we will not tell that any thing has been asked. I have enclosed a letter
to the Chancellor which, when you have read it, you will be pleased to
seal with a head, or other general seal, and convey it to him; had I
sent it directly to him, I should have seemed to overlook the favour of
your intervention. My last letter told you of my advance in health,
which, I think, in the whole still continues. Of the hydropick tumour
there is now very little appearance; the asthma is much less
troublesome, and seems to remit something day after day. I do not
despair of supporting an English winter. At Chatsworth, I met young Mr.
Burke, who led me very commodiously into conversation with the Duke and
Duchess. We had a very good morning. The dinner was publick[1133].'
Sept. 18. 'I flattered myself that this week would have given me a
letter from you, but none has come. Write to me now and then, but direct
your next to Lichfield. I think, and I hope, am sure, that I still grow
better; I have sometimes good nights; but am still in my legs weak, but
so much mended, that I go to Lichfield in hope of being able to pay my
visits on foot, for there are no coaches. I have three letters this day,
all about the balloon, I could have been content with one. Do not write
about the balloon, whatever else you may think proper to say[1134].'
October 2. 'I am always proud of your approbation, and therefore was
much pleased that you liked my letter. When you copied it[1135], you
invaded the Chancellor's right rather than mine. The refusal I did not
expect, but I had never thought much about it, for I doubted whether the
Chancellor had so much tenderness for me as to ask. He, being keeper of
the King's conscience, ought not to be supposed capable of an improper
petition. All is not gold that glitters, as we have often been told; and
the adage is verified in your place[1136] and my favour; but if what
happens does not make us richer, we must bid it welcome, if it makes us
wiser. I do not at present grow better, nor much worse; my hopes,
however, are somewhat abated, and a very great loss is the loss of hope,
but I struggle on as I can.'