esides being a game of chance, is paying a very
dear price for it.

[Footnote 1: The Duke of Orleans, the infamous Egalite, fomented the
Revolution in the hope that it might lead to the deposition of the King,
and to his own election to the throne, as in England, a century before,
the Prince of Orange had succeeded James II. He voted for the death of
his cousin and king, and was, in just retribution, sent to the
guillotine by Robespierre at the end of the same year.]

[Footnote 2: Mirabeau was the most celebrated of all the earlier leaders
of the Revolution. At the time of this letter he had connected himself
closely with the Duc d'Orleans, in whose pay, in fact, he was, as his
profligacy and extravagance had long before dissipated all the property
which had fallen to his share as a younger son. Afterwards, on
discovering the cowardice and baseness of the Duke, he broke with him,
and exerted himself in the cause of the King, whom, indeed, he had
originally desired to support, if his advances had not been, with
incredible folly, rejected by Necker. But he had no time to repair the
mischief he had done, even if it had been in his power, which it
probably would not have been, since he died, after a short illness, in
April, 1791.]

For us, we are in most danger of a deluge; though I wonder we so
frequently complain of long rains. The saying about St. Swithin is a
proof of how often they recur; for proverbial sentences are the children
of experience, not of prophecy. Good night! In a few days I shall send
you a beautiful little poem from the Strawberry press.

_BRUCE'S "TRAVELS"--VIOLENCE OF THE FRENCH JACOBINS--NECKER._

TO THE HON. H.S. CONWAY.

STRAWBERRY HILL, _Wednesday night, July_ 1, 1790.

It is certainly not from having anything to tell you, that I reply so
soon, but as the most agreeable thing I can do in my confinement. The
gout came into my heel the night before last, perhaps from the deluge
and damp. I increased it yesterday by limping about the house with a
party I had to breakfast. To-day I am lying on the settee, unable to
walk alone, or even to put on a slipper. However, as I am much easier
this evening, I trust it will go off.

I do not love disputes, and shall not argue with you about Bruce; but,
if you like him, you shall not choose an author for me. It is the most
absurd, obscure, and tiresome book I know. I shall admire if you have a
clear conception about most of the persons and matters in h