For three years previous to this time, Lord Clive's mind had been kept painfully on the stretch. He had been compelled, almost singly, to combat a whole settlement, and especially the highest portion of it, in arms against him, eager to thwart and defeat his plans of reform; he had borne the whole weight of the resentment of the officers of the army, whom he subdued by his force of mind and unrivalled reputation; he had paid off a large portion of the Company's debt; had added an immense sum to their revenue, and had supplied them with an unparalleled investment; he had left their possessions in the East, as he believed, rich and flourishing, and in peace, and had returned with ruined health and a broken constitution. In all his trials, and in very painful circumstances, under which most men would have sunk, he had supported himself by the strong consciousness that he was doing his duty, and meriting the applause of his employers and of the world. It is not surprising, that when he thought himself deserted, and believed that he was the object of the jealousy and slight of the very persons whom he had so illustriously served, his disappointment and resentment should be extreme, and that his sensitive and exasperated mind should almost doubt the existence of human gratitude. But this feeling of disappointment never mingled itself with that of his attachment to the Company itself, as at this very moment, when he was giving vent to the feeling of his wrongs, we find him communicating to the Directors and their committees, with the utmost detail and clearness, his opinions on the whole concerns of the Company, civil, military, and political, in various letters of great length. He did, indeed, feel very acutely some appearances of what he thought want of due respect and consideration on the part of the Directors, in their mode of addressing him; but the whole powers of his mind and experience continued, as much as ever, at the service of the East India Company. When the business of the jaghire was arranged, Lord Clive set out to visit some of the friends from whom he had been so long separated. In the last days of September, he had, at Birmingham, a very violent attack of bilious cholera, attended with excruciating pain. As soon as he was able he moved to Walcot, and spent the month of October chiefly there and at Styche, in the bosom of his family, and surrounded by his friends. At the latter place, he had another severe attack of the same complaint, attended with very painful symptoms; and it would appear, that he continued freely to indulge in the use of opium, as he had done while in Bengal, to moderate the violence of the paroxysms. His physicians at this time advised his return to Bath, as affording the best hope of promoting the restoration of his health; and he accordingly removed thither in November.