ndham spoke to Dr. Burney; but found him still
irresolute. "I will set the club upon him," cried Windham; "Miss Burney
has some very true admirers there, and I am sure they will eagerly
assist." Indeed, the Burney family seem to have been apprehensive that
some public affront, such as the Doctor's unpardonable folly, to use the
mildest term, had richly deserved, would be put upon him. The medical
men spoke out, and plainly told him that his daughter must resign or
die.

At last paternal affection, medical authority, and the voice of all
London crying shame, triumphed over Dr. Burney's love of courts. He
determined that Frances should write a letter of resignation. It was
with difficulty that, though her life was at stake, she mustered spirit
to put the paper into the Queen's hands. "I could not," so runs the
Diary, "summon courage to present my memorial; my heart always failed me
from seeing the Queen's entire freedom from such an expectation. For
though I was frequently so ill in her presence that I could hardly
stand, I saw she concluded me, while life remained, inevitably hers."

At last with a trembling hand the paper was delivered. Then came the
storm. Juno, as in the Aeneid, delegated the work of vengeance to Alecto.
The Queen was calm and gentle; but Madame Schwellenberg raved like a
maniac in the incurable ward of Bedlam! Such insolence! Such
ingratitude! Such folly! Would Miss Burney bring utter destruction on
herself and her family? Would she throw away the inestimable advantage
of royal protection? Would she part with privileges which, once
relinquished, could never be regained? It was idle to talk of health and
life. If people could not live in the palace, the best thing that could
befall them was to die in it. The resignation was not accepted. The
language of the medical men became stronger and stronger. Dr. Burney's
parental fears were fully roused; and he explicitly declared in a letter
meant to be shown to the Queen that his daughter must retire. The
Schwellenberg raged like a wild cat. "A scene almost horrible ensued,"
says Miss Burney. "She was too much enraged for disguise, and uttered
the most furious expressions of indignant contempt at our proceedings. I
am sure she would gladly have confined us both in the Bastille, had
England such a misery, as a fit place to bring us to ourselves, from a
daring so outrageous against imperial wishes." This passage deserves
notice, as being the only one in the Di