The Duke of’ Richmond tells me that Choiseul has promised every thing.  I wish it may be performed, and speedily, as it will give you an opportunity of opening the Parliament with great `eclat.  My opinion you know is, that this is the moment for pushing them and obtaining.

Thank you for all you say about my gout.  We have had a week of very hard frost, that has done me great good, and rebraced me.  The swelling of my legs is quite gone.  What has done me more good, is having entirely left off tea, to which I believe the weakness of my stomach was owing, having had no sickness since.  In short, I think I am cured of every thing but my fears.  You talk coolly of going as far as Naples, and propose my going with you.  I would not go so far, if Naples was the direct road to the new Jerusalem.  I have no thought or wish but to get home, and be quiet for the rest of my days, which I shall most certainly do the first moment the season will let me; and if I once get to London again, shall be scarce tempted ever to lie in an inn more.  I have refused to go to Aubign`e, though I should lie but one night on the road.  You may guess what I have suffered, when I am grown so timorous about my health, However, I am again reverted to my system of water, and trying to recover my hardiness—­but nothing has at all softened me towards physicians.

You see I have given you a serious answer, though I am rather disposed to smile at your proposal.  Go to Italy! for what?—­Oh! to quit—­do you know, I think that as idle a thought as the other.  Pray stay where you are, and do some good to your country, or retire when you cannot—­but don’t put your finger in your eye and cry after the holidays and sugar-plums of Park-place.  You have engaged and must go through or be hindered.  Could you tell the world the reason?  Would not all men say you had found yourself incapable of what you had undertaken?  I have no patience with your thinking so idly.  It would be a reflection on your understanding and character, and a want of resolution unworthy of you.

My advice is, to ask for the first great government that falls, if you will not take your regiment again; to continue acting vigorously and honestly where you are.  Things are never stable enough in our country to give you a prospect of a long slavery.  Your defect is irresolution.  When you have taken your post, act up to it; and if you are driven from it, your retirement will then be as Honourable, and more satisfactory than your administration.  I speak frankly, as my friendship for you directs.  My way of acting (though a private instance) is agreeable to my doctrine.  I determined, whenever our opposition should be over, to have done with politics; and you see I have adhered to my resolution by coming hither; and therefore you may be convinced that I speak my thoughts.  I don’t ask your pardon, because I should be forced to ask my own, if I did not tell you what I think the best for you.  You have