throat have not risen. I bullied and bounced, (it sticks to
our last sand,) and compelled the apothecary to make his salve according
to the Edinburgh dispensatory, that it might adhere better. I have two
on now of my own prescription. They, likewise, give me salt of
hartshorn, which I take with no great confidence, but I am satisfied
that what can be done, is done for me.

O God! give me comfort and confidence in thee; forgive my sins; and, if
it be thy good pleasure, relieve my diseases, for Jesus Christ's sake.
Amen.

I am almost ashamed of this querulous letter; but now it is written, let
it go. I am, &c.

L.--To MRS. THRALE.

DEAR MADAM,--Among those that have inquired after me, sir Philip is one;
and Dr. Burney was one of those who came to see me. I have had no reason
to complain of indifference or neglect. Dick Burney is come home five
inches taller.

Yesterday, in the evening, I went to church, and have been to-day to see
the great burning-glass, which does more than was ever done before, by
the transmission of the rays, but is not equal in power to those which
reflect them. It wastes a diamond placed in the focus, but causes no
diminution of pure gold. Of the rubies, exposed to its action, one was
made more vivid, the other paler. To see the glass, I climbed up stairs
to the garret, and then up a ladder to the leads, and talked to the
artist rather too long; for my voice, though clear and distinct for a
little while, soon tires and falters. The organs of speech are yet very
feeble, but will, I hope, be, by the mercy of God, finally restored: at
present, like any other weak limb, they can endure but little labour at
once. Would you not have been very sorry for me, when I could scarcely
speak?

Fresh cantharides were this morning applied to my head, and are to be
continued some time longer. If they play me no treacherous tricks, they
give me very little pain.

Let me have your kindness and your prayers; and think on me, as on a
man, who, for a very great portion of your life has done you all the
good he could, and desires still to be considered, madam, your, &c.

LI.--To MRS. THRALE.

London, July 1, 1783.

DEAREST MADAM,--This morning I took the air by a ride to Hampstead, and
this afternoon I dined with the club. But fresh cantharides were this
day applied to my head.

Mr. Cator called on me to-day, and told me, that he had invited you back
to Streatham. I showed the unfitness of your return