material alteration was expected before Sunday, I would go to dine at Strawberry, and return in time to meet the physicians in the evening; in truth, I was worn out with anxiety and attendance, and wanted an hour or two of fresh air.  I left her at twelve, and had ordered dinner at three that I might be back early.  I had not risen from table when I received an express from Lady Betty Waldegrave, to tell me that a sudden change had happened, that they had given him James’s powder, but that they feared it was too late, and that he probably would be dead before I could come to my niece, for whose sake she begged I would return immediately.  It was indeed too late! too late for every thing—­late as it was given, the powder vomited him even in the agonies—­had I had power to direct, he should never have quitted James; but these are vain regrets! vain to recollect how particularly kind he, who was kind to every body, was to me!  I found Lady Waldegrave at my brother’s; she weeps without ceasing, and talks of his virtues and goodness to her in a manner that distracts one.  My brother bears this mortification with more courage than I could have expected from his warm passions:  but nothing struck me more than to see my rough savage Swiss, Louis, in tears, as he opened my chaise.  I have a bitter scene to come:  to-morrow morning I carry poor Lady Waldegrave to Strawberry.  Her fall is great, from that adoration and attention that he paid her, from that splendour of fortune, so much of which dies with him, and from that consideration, which rebounded to her from the great deference which the world had for his character.  Visions perhaps.  Yet who could expect that they would have passed away even before that fleeting thing, her beauty!

If I had time or command enough of my thoughts, I could give you as long a detail of as unexpected a revolution in the political world.  To-day has been as fatal to a whole nation, I mean to the Scotch, as to our family.  Lord Bute resigned this morning.  His intention was not even suspected till Wednesday, nor at all known a very few days before.  In short, there is nothing, more or less, than a panic; a fortnight’s opposition has demolished that scandalous but vast majority, which a fortnight had purchased; and in five months a plan of absolute power has been demolished by a panic.  He pleads to the world bad health; to his friends, more truly, that the nation was set at him.  He pretends to intend retiring absolutely, and giving no umbrage.  In the mean time he is packing up a sort of ministerial legacy, which cannot hold even till next session, and I should think would scarce take place at all.  George Grenville is to be at the head of the treasury and chancellor of the exchequer; Charles Townshend to succeed him; and Lord Shelburne, Charles.  Sir Francis Dashwood to have his barony of Despencer and the great wardrobe, in the room of Lord Gower, who takes the privy seal, if the Duke of Bedford takes