six weeks ago as just coming over, but it is not come; perhaps he waits for a better catastrophe. The Tickenham Press is in labour of two or three works (not of the printer's own). One of them is an Account of Russia by a Lord Whitworth, who, I think, was minister there from King William.

1

I seem to have told you all I know, which you will think very little, but a nihilo nil fit. If I were to coin my whole mind into phrases they would profit you nothing, nor fill a moderate page. Compassionate my poverty, shew yourself noble in giving me better than I bring, and ever believe me most sincerely yours, T. G.

I find you missed of Stonhewer by going to Sir Conyers Darcy's. Can you tell me if he is still at Harrowgate, for I do not know how to direct to him there?

CLI.--TO RICHARD STONEHEWER.

Cambridge, August 18, 1758.

I AM as sorry as you seem to be, that our acquaintance harped so much on the subject of materialism, when I saw him with you in town, because it was plain to

1 This little work was printed at Strawberry Hill in 1758. The MS. was given by Richard Owen Cambridge, Esq., who had purchased Mr. Zolman's Library, which related solely to Russian History. In the Preface, written by Walpole, some account may be found of Lord Whitworth. The title is, "Account of Russia as it was in 1710."—[Mit.]

which side of the long-debated question he inclined. That we are indeed mechanical and dependent beings, I need no other proof than my own feelings; and from the same feelings I learn, with equal conviction, that we are not merely such that there is a power within that struggles against the force and bias of that mechanism, commands its motion, and, by frequent practice, reduces it to that ready obedience which we call Habit; and all this in conformity to a preconceived opinion (no matter whether right or wrong) to that least material of all agents, a Thought. I have known many in his case who, while they thought they were conquering an old prejudice, did not perceive they were under the influence of one far more dangerous; one that furnishes us with a ready apology for all our worst actions, and opens to us a full license for doing whatever we please; and yet these very people were not at all the more indulgent to other men (as they naturally should have been); their indignation to such as offended them, their desire of revenge on anybody that hurt them was nothing mitigated in short, the truth is, they wished to be persuaded of that opinion for the sake of its convenience, but were not so in their heart; and they would have been glad (as they ought in common prudence) that nobody else should think the same, for fear of the mischief that might ensue to themselves. His French Author I never saw, but have read fifty in the same strain, and shall read no more. I can be wretched enough without them. They put

me in mind of the Greek Sophist that got immortal honour by discoursing so feelingly on the miseries of our condition, that fifty of his audience went home and hanged themselves; yet he lived himself (I suppose) many years after in very good plight.

You say you cannot conceive how Lord Shaftesbury came to be a Philosopher in vogue; I will tell you: First, he was a Lord; 2dly, he was as vain as any of his readers; 3dly, men are very prone to believe what they do not understand; 4thly, they will believe anything at all, provided they are under no obligation to believe it; 5thly, they love to take a new road, even when that road leads nowhere; 6thly, he was reckoned a fine writer, and seemed always to mean more than he said. Would you have any more reasons? An interval of above forty years has pretty well destroyed the charm. A dead Lord ranks but with Commoners: Vanity is no longer interested in the matter, for the new road has become an old one. The mode of free-thinking is like that of Ruffs and Farthingales, and has given place to the mode of not thinking at all; once it was reckoned graceful, half to discover and half conceal the mind, but now we have been long accustomed to see it quite naked: primness and affectation of style, like the good breeding of Queen Anne's Court, has turned to hoydening and rude familiarity.

CLII. TO THOMAS WHARTON.

DEAR DOCTOR-I ought to have informed you sooner, that I had received the Ticket you were so good to buy for me, but I have been obliged to go every day to Stoke House, where the Garricks have been all the last week. They are now gone, and I am not sorry for it, for I grow so old, that, I own, people in high spirits and gaiety overpower me, and entirely take away mine. I can yet be diverted with their sallies, but if they appear to take notice of my dullness, it sinks me to nothing. I do not know whether you will blame me, but I found so good an opportunity given me of entering into the quarrel between Mason and him, that I could not help seizing it, and trying Ito shew him the folly of hearkening to half-witted friends and tale-bearers; and the greater folly of attempting to hurt, or merely to pique, so worthy and so estimable a man. If I did nothing else, I at least convinced him that I spoke entirely from myself; and that I had the most entire good opinion and most unalterable respect as well as kindness for M[aso]n.

I congratulate you on our successes, and condole with you on our misfortunes: but do you think we draw the nearer to any happy conclusion of the war, or that we can bear so great a burden much longer. The King of Prussia's situation embarrasses me, surrounded as he is, and reduced to the defence of his own little marquisate.

I am

Your Encyclopedia is the object of my envy. reduced to French Plays and Novels, Willis's Mitred Abbies, and the History of Norfolk in 3 volumes folio. These latter Authors have, I think, the most wit, though the others know rather more of the world.

I wish the air of Hampstead were not so necessary to you all, but am glad you always know where to find health, and that she lives so near you. I continue better than has been usual for me in the summer, though I neither walk, nor take anything: 'tis in mind only, that I am weary and disagreeable. Mrs. R[ogers] is declining every day, her stomach gone, very weak, sometimes giddy, and subject to disorders in her bowels: yet I do not apprehend any immediate danger, but believe she will be reduced to keep her bed entirely.

My best compliments to Mrs. Wharton. Pray let me hear from you as often as you are in a humour for writing, though from hence I can requite your kindness with so little to amuse you.—I am ever truly yours, T. G.

Stoke, August 31, 1758.

CLIII. TO THE REV. JAMES BROWN.

September 7, 1758.

DEAR SIR--It is always time to write (whether Louisbourg be taken or not), and I am always alike glad to hear from you. I am glad however to repay you with "the King of Prussia:" there is a man for you at a dead lift, that has beat and baffled his three most