put myself into violent
motion, and, I think, repeated it; but all was vain. I then went to bed,
and, strange as it may seem, I think, slept. When I saw light, it was
time to contrive what I should do. Though God stopped my speech, he left
me my hand: I enjoyed a mercy, which was not granted to my dear friend
Lawrence, who now, perhaps, overlooks me, as I am writing, and rejoices
that I have what he wanted. My first note was, necessarily, to my
servant, who came in talking, and could not immediately comprehend, why
he should read what I put into his hands.

I then wrote a card to Mr. Allen, that I might have a discreet friend at
hand, to act as occasion should require. In penning this note, I had
some difficulty; my hand, I knew not how nor why, made wrong letters. I
then wrote to Dr. Taylor, to come to me, and bring Dr. Heberden, and I
sent to Dr. Brocklesby, who is my neighbour. My physicians are very
friendly and very disinterested, and give me great hopes, but you may
imagine my situation. I have so far recovered my vocal powers, as to
repeat the Lord's prayer, with no very imperfect articulation. My
memory, I hope, yet remains as it was; but such an attack produces
solicitude for the safety of every faculty.

How this will be received by you, I know not. I hope you will sympathize
with me; but, perhaps,

"My mistress, gracious, mild, and good,
Cries: Is he dumb? 'Tis time he shou'd."

But can this be possible? I hope it cannot. I hope that what, when I
could speak, I spoke of you, and to you, will be, in a sober and serious
hour, remembered by you; and, surely, it cannot be remembered but with
some degree of kindness. I have loved you with virtuous affection; I
have honoured you with sincere esteem. Let not all our endearments be
forgotten, but let me have, in this great distress, your pity and your
prayers. You see, I yet turn to you with my complaints, as a settled and
unalienable friend; do not, do not drive me from you, for I have not
deserved either neglect or hatred.

To the girls, who do not write often, for Susy has written only once,
and Miss Thrale owes me a letter, I earnestly recommend, as their
guardian and friend, that they remember their creator in the days of
their youth.

I suppose, you may wish to know, how my disease is treated by the
physicians. They put a blister upon my back, and two from my ear to my
throat, one on a side. The blister on the back has done little, and
those on the