Anew Misfortune, my dear Lady!—But this is of God Almighty's sending; so must bear it patiently. My dear Baby is taken with the Small-pox! To how many Troubles are the happiest of us subjected, in this Life! One need not multiply them by one's own wilful Mismanagements!—I am able to mind nothing else!

I had so much Joy (as I told your Ladyship in the Beginning of my last Letter but one) to see, on our Arrival at the Farm-house, my dearest Mr. B. my beloved Baby, and my good Father and Mother, all upon one happy Spot together, that I fear I was too proud.—Yet I was truly thankful—I am sure I was!—But I had, notwithstanding, too much Pride and too much Pleasure, on this happy Occasion.

I told your Ladyship, in my last, that your dear Brother set out on Tuesday Morning for Tunbridge with my Papers: And I was longing to know the Result, hoping that every thing would be concluded to the Satisfaction of all Three: For, thought I, if this be so, my Happiness must be permanent. But, alas! alas! There is nothing permanent in this Life. I feel it by Experience now!—I knew it before by Theory! But that was not so near and so interesting by half!

For in the Midst of all my Pleasures and Hopes; in the Midst of my dear Parents Joy and Congratulations on our Arrival, and on what had passed so happily since we were last here together, (in the Birth of the dear Child, and my Safety, for which they had been so apprehensive) the dear Baby was taken ill. It was on that very Tuesday Afternoon, his Papa set out for Tunbridge: But we knew not it would be the Small-pox till Thursday! Oh! Madam! how are all the Pleasures I had form’d to myself, sicken’d now upon me! for my Billy is very bad.

They talk of a kind Sort; but, alas! they talk at random: for they come not out at all! How then can they say they are kind?