Mr. Fairly took leave, for a week, he said, wishing me my health, while I expressed my own wishes for his good journey But, in looking forward to a friendship the most permanent, saw the eligibility of rendering it the most open. I therefore went back to Mrs. Schwellenberg; and the moment I received a reproach for staying so long, I calmly answered, “Mr. Fairly had made me a visit, to take leave before he went into the country.”
Amazement was perhaps never more indignant. Mr. Fairly to take leave of me! while not once he even called upon her! This offence swallowed up all other comments upon the communication. I seemed not to understand it; but we had a terrible two hours and a-half. Yet to such, now, I may look forward without any mixture, any alleviation, for evening after evening in this sad abode.
N.B. My own separate adventures for this month, and year, concluded upon this day.
The king went on now better, now worse, in a most fearful manner; but Sir Lucas Pepys never lost sight of hope, and the management of Dr. Willis and his two sons was most wonderfully acute and successful. Yet so much were they perplexed and tormented by the interruptions given to their plans and methods, that they were frequently almost tempted to resign the undertaking from anger and confusion. DR. WILLIS AND His SON.
Kew Palace, Thursday, Jan. 1, 1789.—The year opened with an account the most promising of our beloved king. I saw Dr. Willis, and he told me the night had been very tranquil and he sent for his son, Dr. John Willis, to give me a history of the morning. Dr. John’s narration was in many parts very affecting: the dear and excellent king had been praying for his own restoration! Both the doctors told me that such strong symptoms of true piety had scarce ever been discernible through so dreadful a malady.
How I hastened to my queen!—and with what alacrity I besought permission to run next to the princesses! It was so sweet, so soothing, to open a new year with the solace of anticipated good!
Jan. 3.—I have the great pleasure, now, of a change in my morning’s historiographers; I have made acquaintance with Dr. Willis and his son, and they have desired me to summon one of them constantly for my information. I am extremely struck with both these physicians. Dr. Willis is a man of ten thousand; open, holiest, dauntless, lighthearted, innocent, and high minded: I see him impressed with the most animated reverence and affection for his royal patient; but it is wholly for his character,—not a whit for his rank.
Dr. John, his eldest son, is extremely handsome, and inherits, in a milder degree, all the qualities of his father; but living more in the general world, and having his fame and fortune still to settle, he has not yet acquired the same courage, nor is he, by nature, quite so sanguine in his opinions. The manners of both are extremely pleasing, and they both proceed completely their own way, not merely unacquainted with court etiquette, but wholly, and most artlessly, unambitious to form any such acquaintance.
Jan. 11.—This morning Dr. John gave me but a bad account of the poor king. His amendment is not progressive; it fails, and goes back, and disappoints most grievously; yet it would be nothing were the case and its circumstances less discussed, and were expectation more reasonable.
Jan. 12.—A melancholy day: news bad both at home and abroad. At home the dear unhappy king still worse—abroad new examinations voted of the physicians! Good heaven! what an insult does this seem from parliamentary power, to investigate and bring forth to the world every circumstance Of such a malady as is ever held sacred to secrecy in the most private families! How indignant we all feel here no words can say.