62 ~ Original Letters of Mr. Hume. ier ULY, 
wanted to break loose from you, though I concealed the matter. from, you for 
fear of disgusting you against him. It seems he wrote to a gentleman in Lin- 
colnshire, whose name I have forgot, and offered to come and live ati his — 
an honour which the gentleman declined. His unhappy inquietude, of temper 
must always hinder him from-resting in any place where he is not molested. 
But I wonder where he will now find any body to take him up after your 
example and mine; I am even doubtful whether he is to accept of his pension. 
He must be arrived in London some days, yet General Conway has not heard 
of him, I fancy he dares not approach a house in which he expects to meet 
with me. 
So you are a traitor, too, it seems; pray, do you speak in your sleep? But 
you may cry as loud as you please, je tiens Jean Jaques, He has got out of 
your clutches, and is now in the wide world. For God’s sake let me have a 
copy of his letter; I suppose it is very elegant and very absurd like his to me. 
Whether do you think he has brought his memoirs to town in order to publish 
them? There will bea thousand lies in them, about which you need no more 
trouble yourself than I shall. . 
The Bishop of Cloyne was with me this morning, and told me that his 
curiosity led him to Neufchatel in order to visit your philosopher; and he 
returned to the same place, by accident, just after Rousseau had left it, There 
were a thousand stories, which our friend has frequently told me, and, indeed, 
has published to all the world, concerning his being stoned by the populace; 
and particularly that a great stone had been erected over the door, like a trap, 
in such a manner, that the moment he set his head out of the house it must 
haye fallen upon him, and have crushed him. All these stories, the Bishop. 
said, were absolutely false. The magistrates of the place examined into the 
matter : they found only one stone in the house, and one pane broke; but the 
matter had been so ill contrived by the master and maid, that the stone was 
too big for the hole in the pane, and could not have entered by it. Upon the 
whole, though a poor unhappy wretch like this is an object of pity, I think you 
haye got a very fair riddance: for I take it for granted he will never look near 
you more. 
I am, dear Sir, your most obedient humble servant, Davip Hume. ° 
P.S. I shall be glad to hear of the alleviation of your gout, for we must not 
wish for an entire cure of this fit so soon. hig 
Dear Sir: London, 16th of May 1767. 
You are probably told by Mr. Fitzherbert that your wild philosopher, as 
you call him, has at last appeared at Spalding in Lincolnshire, whence he has 
wrote a most extravagant letter to the chancellor, demanding a messenger to 
conduct him safely to Dover, for which, he says, there is an absolute neces- 
sity ; and this act of hospitality he desires as the last from a country which he 
seems determined to abandon for ever. In short, he is plainly mad, after 
having been long maddish ; and your good offices, with those of Mr. Conway, 
not to mention mine, being joined to the total want of persecution in this 
country, have pushed him beyond all bounds of patience. I know what to 
advise you with regard to his baggage and his money; he will probably pass by 
London in his way to Dover, and you may give any of your friends here what 
orders you think proper on that head. I suppose he gives up his pension for 
ever. The Lord have mercy on him! as you say. 
I am, dear Sir, your most obedient humble servant, _ Davin. Hume. 
4 
Dear Sir: London, 22d of May 1767.~ 
The very same day, and nearly about the same hour, that you told me you 
had received a letter from your philosopher, dated at Spalding in Lincolnshire, 
and ‘expressing his intentions of returning presently to Wootton, ‘did’ Gerierak 
Conway receive a letter from him, dated at Dover, and expressing his intentions 
of :passing presently over to France. I dread his being arrested theres and 
used very ill. He complains still of his misery; he is surely very unhappy, 
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