heir clothes, and
gilt wood carved behind their coaches in a particular figure? Others
breaking their hearts till they are distinguished by the shape and
colour of their hats; and, in general, all people earnestly seeking what
they do not want, while they neglect the real blessings in their
possession--I mean the innocent gratification of their senses, which is
all we can properly call our own. For my part, I will endeavour to
comfort myself for the cruel disappointment I find in renouncing
Tubingen, by eating some fresh oysters on the table. I hope you are
sitting down with dear Lady F. to some admirable red partridges, which I
think are the growth of that country. Adieu! Live happy, and be not
unmindful of your sincere distant friend, who will remember you in the
tenderest manner while there is any such faculty as memory in the
machine called."

To THE COUNTESS OF BUTE

"Venice, May 22, 1759.

"... Building is the general weakness of old people; I have had a twitch
of it myself, though certainly it is the highest absurdity, and as sure
a proof of dotage as pink-coloured ribands, or even matrimony. Nay,
perhaps, there is more to be said in defence of the last; I mean in a
childless old man; he may prefer a boy born in his own house, though he
knows it is not his own, to disrespectful or worthless nephews or
nieces. But there is no excuse for beginning an edifice he can never
inhabit, or probably see finished. The Duchess of Marlborough used to
ridicule the vanity of it, by saying one might always live upon other
people's follies: yet you see she built the most ridiculous house I ever
saw, since it really is not habitable, from the excessive damps; so true
it is, the things that we would do, those do we not, and the things we
would not do, those do we daily. I feel in myself a proof of this
assertion, being much against my will at Venice, though I own it is the
only great town where I can properly reside, yet here I find so many
vexations, that, in spite of all my philosophy and (what is more
powerful) my phlegm, I am oftener out of humour than among my plants and
poultry in the country. I cannot help being concerned at the success of
iniquitous schemes, and grieve for oppressed merit. You, who see these
things every day, think me as unreasonable, in making them matter of
complaint, as if I seriously lamented the change of seasons. You should
consider I have lived almost a hermit ten years, and the world is as new