ench company. The
present tone is serious enough in conscience. Unluckily, the subjects of
their conversation are duller to me than my own thoughts, which may be
tinged with melancholy reflections, but I doubt from my constitution
will never be insipid.

The French affect philosophy, literature, and free-thinking: the first
never did, and never will possess me; of the two others I have long been
tired. Free-thinking is for one's self, surely not for society; besides
one has settled one's way of thinking, or knows it cannot be settled,
and for others I do not see why there is not as much bigotry in
attempting conversions from any religion as to it. I dined to-day with a
dozen _savans_, and though all the servants were waiting, the
conversation was much more unrestrained, even on the Old Testament, than
I would suffer at my own table in England, if a single footman was
present. For literature, it is very amusing when one has nothing else to
do. I think it rather pedantic in society; tiresome when displayed
professedly; and, besides, in this country one is sure it is only the
fashion of the day. Their taste in it is worst of all: could one believe
that when they read our authors, Richardson and Mr. Hume should be their
favourites? The latter is treated here with perfect veneration. His
History, so falsified in many points, so partial in as many, so very
unequal in its parts, is thought the standard of writing.

In their dress and equipages they are grown very simple. We English are
living upon their old gods and goddesses; I roll about in a chariot
decorated with cupids, and look like the grandfather of Adonis.

Of their parliaments and clergy I hear a good deal, and attend very
little: I cannot take up any history in the middle, and was too sick of
politics at home to enter into them here. In short, I have done with the
world, and live in it rather than in a desert, like you. Few men can
bear absolute retirement, and we English worst of all. We grow so
humorsome, so obstinate and capricious, and so prejudiced, that it
requires a fund of good-nature like yours not to grow morose. Company
keeps our rind from growing too coarse and rough; and though at my
return I design not to mix in public, I do not intend to be quite a
recluse. My absence will put it in my power to take up or drop as much
as I please. Adieu! I shall inquire about your commission of books, but
having been arrived but ten days, have not yet had time. Need