have come to Bath; but now I hope your journey hither has been prevented, and that all your children will mix their tears with yours at Dublin, for the irreparable loss we have all sustained. I say we, because I most affectionately loved and esteemed my late dear kinswoman for the many good and valuable qualities she had. . . . I wish to my heart you may have fortitude of mind to support you under this calamity. You have the comfort of your most deserving children, and that they may all live to be a blessing to you is the sincere wish of, &c. &c.
Edmond, who continued for some months in London, thus adverts in a letter to his father to a delicate topic of the day—the first mental illness of George III.—which had been studiously kept out of sight. Nor are the attractions of the Grecian Coffee-house, even for an Irish chief justice, forgotten.
Honoured Sir[1]—As I imagined you would be entirely taken up with business during circuit, I have not troubled you with a letter for some time past, and, indeed, should not now, but suppose you will by the time you receive this be returned to town, and this is the last opportunity of paying my respects before I see you in London. My brother, I think, in his last letter informed you of the death of Mrs. Weaver. We have heard nothing further from Lord Catherlough on that subject, so that we may bid adieu to the prospect of any share of her personal fortune. I have not heard to what it amounts, but suppose it can’t be less than 6,000l. . . .
I have little public news to send. The K has had a slight fever, which has alarmed people so much that it is said a Regency will be formed in case any accident should