to be obliged to me; for I refrained for their sake from
laying a hand, which has been thought to be not a light one, on that old
rogue the first Lord Holland. [Lord Holland, once upon a time, speaking
to Macaulay of his grandfather, said: "He had that temper which kind
folks have been pleased to say belongs to my family; but he shared the
fault that belonged to that school of statesmen, an utter disbelief in
public virtue."]

Charles Grant is still at Paris; ill, he says. I never knew a man who
wanted setting to rights so often. He goes as badly as your watch.

My father is at me again to provide for P--. What on earth have I to
do with P--? The relationship is one which none but Scotchmen would
recognise. The lad is such a fool that he would utterly disgrace my
recommendation. And, as if to make the thing more provoking, his sisters
say that he must be provided for in England, for that they cannot think
of parting with him. This, to be sure, matters little; for there is
at present just as little chance of getting anything in India as in
England.

But what strange folly this is which meets me in every quarter; people
wanting posts in the army, the navy, the public offices, and saying
that, if they cannot find such posts, they must starve! How do all the
rest of mankind live? If I had not happened to be engaged in politics,
and if my father had not been connected, by very extraordinary
circumstances, with public men, I should never have dreamed of having
places. Why cannot P-- be apprenticed to some hatter or tailor? He may
do well in such a business; he will do detestably ill as a clerk in my
office. He may come to make good coats; he will never, I am sure, write
good despatches. There is nothing truer than Poor Richard's say: "We
are taxed twice as heavily by our pride as by the state." The curse of
England is the obstinate determination of the middle classes to make
their sons what they call gentlemen. So we are overrun by clergymen
without livings; lawyers without briefs; physicians without patients;
authors without readers; clerks soliciting employment, who might
have thriven, and been above the world, as bakers, watchmakers, or
innkeepers. The next time my father speaks to me about P--, I will offer
to subscribe twenty guineas towards making a pastry-cook of him. He had
a sweet tooth when he was a child.

So you are reading Burnet! Did you begin from the beginning? What do
you think of the old fellow? He was