blished at London my Natural History of Religion,
along with some other small pieces: its public entry was rather
obscure, except only that Dr. Hurd wrote a pamphlet against it, with
all the illiberal petulance, arrogance, and scurrility, which
distinguish the Warburtonian school. This pamphlet gave me some
consolation for the otherwise indifferent reception of my performance.

In 1756, two years after the fall of the first volume, was published
the second volume of my History, containing the period from the death
of Charles I. till the Revolution. This performance happened to give
less displeasure to the whigs, and was better received. It not only
rose itself, but helped to buoy up its unfortunate brother.

But though I had been taught by experience, that the whig party were
in possession of bestowing all places, both in the state and in
literature, I was so little inclined to yield to their senseless
clamour, that in above a hundred alterations, which farther study,
reading, or reflection, engaged me to make in the reigns of the two
first Stuarts, I have made all of them invariably to the tory side.
It is ridiculous to consider the English constitution before that
period as a regular plan of liberty.

In 1759 I published my History of the House of Tudor. The clamour
against this performance was almost equal to that against the History
of the two first Stuarts. The reign of Elizabeth was particularly
obnoxious. But I was now callous against the impressions of public
folly, and continued very peaceably and contentedly in my retreat in
Edinburgh, to finish, in two volumes, the more early part of the
English History, which I gave to the public in 1761, with tolerable,
and but tolerable, success.

But notwithstanding this variety of winds and seasons to which my
writings have been exposed, they had still been making such advances,
that the copy-money given me by the booksellers much exceeded any
thing formerly known in England: I retired to my native country of
Scotland, determined never more to set my foot out of it; and
retaining the satisfaction of never having preferred a request to one
great man, or even making advances of friendship to any of them. As I
was now turned of fifty, I thought of passing all the rest of my life
in this philosophical manner, when I received, in 1763, an invitation
from the Earl of Hertford, with whom I was not in the least
acquainted, to attend him on his embassy to Paris, with a