“Bullstrode, January 1, 1742.
“Dear Mrs. Donnellan,
“Though there is no day of the year in which one does not wish all happiness to one’s friends, this is the particular day in which the heart goes forth in particular vows and wishes for the welfare of those it loves. It is the birth of a new year, whose entrance we would salute, and hope auspicious; nor is this particular mark of time of little use: it teaches us to number our days, which a wise man thought an incitement to the well spending them; and, indeed, did we consider how much the pleasure and profit of our lives depends upon an economy of our time, we should not waste it as we do, in idle repentance, or reflection on the past, or a vain unuseful regard for the future. In youth we defer being prudent till we are old, and look forward to a promise of wisdom as the portion of latter years: when we are old we seek not to improve, and scarce employ ourselves; looking backward to our youth as to the day of our diligence, and take a pride in laziness, saying we rest as after the accomplishment of our undertakings; but we ought to ask for our daily merit, as for our daily bread. The mind, no more than the body, can be sustained by the food taken yesterday, or promised for to-morrow. Every day ought to be considered as a period apart, some virtue should be exercised, some knowledge improved, and the value of happiness well understood, some pleasure comprehended in it; some duty to ourselves or others must be infringed if any of these things are neglected....
“I beg of you to reserve Monday morning for me, and I will spend it all with you; on Tuesday I set out for Mount Morris, and on Sunday night Pen[198] desires you to be at her house. I hope to return to you in the beginning of March for between two and three months. Our happy society is just breaking up, but I will think of it with gratitude, and not with regret, and thank Fate for the joyful hours she lent me....
“This year does not promise me much pleasure as the last has afforded me here, but the fairest gifts of fate come often unexpected.”
[198] Mrs. Pendarves.
LORD GEORGE BENTINCK
This sentence was, had she known it, prophetic, for this very year was to furnish her with an excellent and loving husband, a position of importance, and a plentiful fortune. In a letter to Sarah at this period mention is made by Elizabeth of Lord George Bentinck (the duke’s uncle) having been ill, and the means taken for his recovery!—
“Lord George is much better than he was, and Drs. Mead and Sandys have not determined whether it is gout. I hope it is not; he has been blooded forty ounces within this week, and they say looks as florid as ever!”
NORTHFLEET FAIR