DEAR SIR,--I went over to Wooton on Tuesday: had a long conference with Mr. Rousseau on the subject of your last letters; gave into his hands yours addressed to him, (which he had not read before:) showed him those I received from you; and in the most earnest manner insisted upon his giving you an open answer to all your questions, which I told him you had certainly a right to ask, and he could not have any pretence whatever to refuse. His spirits seemed vastly fluttered. However, he told me a long history of the whole affair. I said, that as my knowledge of the French language was very imperfect, I might easily misrepresent things, so begged him to write down the whole matter. Before he began his discourse, I could not help speaking a deal to him on the subject of the pension, and expressed my astonishment at his even ever having had the least thought of refusing the favours of the greatest king in the world. To my infinite surprise, he directly returned this answer, That he never had refused, or any thing like it; spoke with the greatest respect and veneration of his majesty, and with all sort of acknowledgments of gratitude to General Conway, &c. You may well imagine my surprise increased. He then began his story: but that I entirely leave to his pen, as he has faithfully promised to perform. I am really sorry for him; he's uneasy, frets perpetually, and looks terribly. 'Tis almost impossible to conceive the oddness of his extreme sensibility; so that I conclude, when he's guilty of an error, his nerves are more in fault than his heart. Things vex him to the utmost extent of vexation, which would not even move such a dull soul as mine is. In short, I perceive his disorder is jealousy: he thinks you are fond of some _savans hommes_, whom he unfortunately calls his enemies. It will give me the greatest satisfaction to hear that you have received a satisfactory answer, and that every thing is set right again.[337:1]