LETTER XI
It is but three day since I wrote to my Dearest Life, but haveing had the pleasure of one from you last night of 15 of Ap., new stile, by another hand, I am resolved to lett no opportunity slip, hoping that some one of my letters may come to your hand. This is the eighth I have writ, and tho’ by your last you tell me you had not heard from me, I am hopful they are not all mis-carryed, but by your leaving Paris they are longer a-coming to your hand. It is no small satisfaction to me that you are well and at freedom, and the thoughts of it support me under every other difficulty. Tho’ I must own the common misfortune has been so greivous that I cannot express it, and then every particular person that I ever knew or heard of makes deep impression upon me, so that I was not capable of having a right thought. But after some time I found I could not live after that way, and made myself incapable to serve you. I resolv’d to imploy myself in doing in your affairs what was fit in the present juncture, and as the old saying is, indeavour to make the best of an ill bargain. But I have been many days without speaking, except when business obligt me to it.
I told you in my last our friends att London are well, and we are not afraid of their lives being in danger. What will come of all the misfortunate people God knows, but many have foolishily given up themselves and Glengary among the rest, who is now at Perth. It’s talkt they are all to be tryed. I am still at home managing after the old manner but with many difficultys, being perfectly a stranger to your debts, and every frikish body arresting the rents, and one difficulty no sooner off but another occurs; but I doubt not to get over all these, and in time, which it’s probable I will have now, if the Parlyment rise soon as it’s expected, without any more bills of attainder, to get this year’s rent. Your farms are plowed and the last of the Barley sow’d this day. I may ask you when you was so soon done. There has been no other work without doors for two months past, because upon many reasons it was inconvenient. I have planted trees here, and if things go tolerably easy I intend to plant both here and in the other place in the latter season. I tell you all this that you may not think I despair of your having peaceable possession of your own, tho’ I cannot yet see by what means. We hear of an interview of many crown’d heads, and some people think your pardon may be easily obtained by your Brother, the Dr., and his master’s means, but if ever you obtain it that way, your abode must be in another place. Ch. has some thoughts of going over to see his Brother, and wold appoint you to meet him if ye could do it with safety. I must own if it be practicable for your friends to obtain a pardon, you should accept of it, however cross it may be to your own inclination. Consider your children and me, and prevent the utter ruin of your family. And I daresay neither Kid nor Mill will think it wrong for you, since you cannot serve them in your present circumstances, to doe what is so material for your interest.
Your boys have been very ill of the chincoch but are better. I hope they will get over it very soon.... I expect to see Ch. soon here. P. C. is at London, and your sister, Nell, is gone to the Bath. All your friends are well. The uncertainty of my letters coming to your hand makes me say less than I incline. Pray draw for money when you please, but it seems you are in no want, for you never mention it. Wishing you, my Life, all manner of happyness, I am in all sincerity
May 4th.
Yours.