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a vein with their teeth, when they are heated by a long course, in order to breathe more freely— I am often tempted to open a vein, and procure for myself everlasting liberty.
LETTER XL VII.
March 24. T HAVE written to court for leave to resign; and I hope I shall obtain it. You will forgive me for not having previously consulted you. It was expedient for me to leave this place.—I knew all you could alledge in order to induce me to stay, and therefore-^—I beg of you to soften * this this news as much as you can to my mother, when you acquaint her with it. I can do nothing for myself; how should I do any thing for others? She will undoubtedly be grieved to find, that I have stopped short in that career which would have led directly to my being first a Privy Counsellor, and then Minister; and to see me thus returning to my" original nothing. Argue on the subject as much as you will, combine all the reasons which should have induced me to stay > I am going, that is sufficient. But that you may not be ignorant where I am going, I shall tell you that here is the Prince of —,
who who Is much pleased with tnf cdmj>any, and who having heard of my* intention to resign, has invited me to his country-house, to pass the spring months with him. He assures me that I shall be left quite at liberty; and as we agree on all subjects but one, I shall venture to accompany him.
T THANK you for your two let* ters. I waited for my answer from court before I Wrote to you, 1 was under continual apprehension
least least my mother should apply to the minister, in order to defeat my purpose. But I have received my dismission: and here it is. I will not tell you with what regret it was given to me, nor what the minister said in his letter to me; for you would renew your lamentations. The money which I sent to my mother for, I shall not want; for the hereditary Prince has made me a present—and it was accompanied by a few words -which affected me almost to tears.
May 5. T SET out to-morrow; and as my ■*■ native place is but six miles out of the great road, I have a mind to see it, and call back to my remembrance the happy dreams of my childhood. I shall go in at the same gate which I came through with my mother, when after my father's death she left that delightful retreat to immure herself in your melancholy town. Adieu, my dear friend. You shall hear of my expedition.