that he doubled it
himself, contrary to advice. In short, he has terminated at fifty a life
of so much glory, reproach, art, wealth, and ostentation! He had just
named ten members for the new Parliament.

[Footnote 1: Lord Clive had committed suicide in his house in Berkeley
Square. As he was passing through his library his niece, who was writing
a letter, asked him to mend a pen for her. He did it, and, passing on
into the next room, cut his throat with the same knife he had just used.
It is remarkable that, when little more than a youth, he had once tried
to destroy himself. In a fit, apparently of constitutional melancholy,
he had put a pistol to his head, but it did not go off. He pulled the
trigger more than once; always with the same result. Anxious to see
whether there was any defect in the weapon or the loading, he aimed at
the door of the room, and the pistol went off, the bullet going through
the door; and from that day he conceived himself reserved by Providence
for great things, though in his most sanguine confidence he could never
have anticipated such glory as he was destined to win.]

Next Tuesday that Parliament is to meet--and a deep game it has to play!
few Parliaments a greater. The world is in amaze here that no account is
arrived from America of the result of their General Congress--if any is
come it is very secret; and _that_ has no favourable aspect. The
combination and spirit there seem to be universal, and is very alarming.
I am the humble servant of events, and you know never meddle with
prophecy. It would be difficult to descry good omens, be the issue what
it will.

The old French Parliament is restored with great _eclat_.[1] Monsieur de
Maurepas, author of the revolution, was received one night at the Opera
with boundless shouts of applause. It is even said that the mob
intended, when the King should go to hold the _lit de justice_,[2] to
draw his coach. How singular it would be if Wilkes's case should be
copied for a King of France! Do you think Rousseau was in the right,
when he said that he could tell what would be the manners of any capital
city from certain given lights? I don't know what he may do on
Constantinople and Pekin--but Paris and London! I don't believe Voltaire
likes these changes. I have seen nothing of his writing for many months;
not even on the poisoning Jesuits. For our part, I repeat it, we shall
contribute nothing to the _Histoire des Moeurs_, not for want of
mater