‘Annals’ sent him the moment they were published, but still he always found that the King was beforehand with him, for upon the first of the month, while the number was unopened upon his table, riding out and meeting his Majesty, he at once spoke to him on a paper of his own (Lord Fife’s) in that number, showing that he had read the whole before it had met the eye of the author. Among the letters I received this year the following may be particularly noted:— _l._ ‘Londonderry: April 23,1783. ‘A thousand thanks to you, my dear friend, for your recollection of me at so many miles’ distance, and for your summary Gazette of the present miscellaneous state of our neighbours, but no thanks at all to you for wishing me back to the foggy, fenny atmosphere of Ickworth, in preference to the exhilarating and invigorating air, or rather ether, of the Downhill. When you are _vapid_, if ever those _pétillant_ spirits of yours are so, come and imbibe some fixed or unfixed air at the Downhill, where a tree is no longer a _rarity_, since above 200,000 have this winter been planted in the glens round my house; come and enjoy the rapidity and the success with which I have converted sixty acres of moor, by the medium of two hundred spades, into a _green_ carpet, sprinkled with white clover. Am I not an adept in national dialect? Come and enjoy some mountain converted into arable, and grouse metamorphosed without a miracle, into men; come and teach a willing disciple and an affectionate friend how to finish a work he is barely able to begin. ‘In all my leases to the tenants of the See, I have providently, and with a long forecast, made a reservation to myself of all the bog and mountain lands deemed unprofitable. Well, these I am enabled by statute to grant in trust for myself during sixty-one years. Now is the moment to execute this great purpose; the _reserved_ acres amount to several thousands, and upon one mountain only I have received proposals for building 200 cabbins (cabins); the limestone is at the bottom of the hill, and the turf at the top. What gold may not this chemistry produce, and who do you think would himself submit to vegetate at Ickworth whilst he can direct such a laboratory at the Downhill? ‘Can Ashby crawl—_Quantum mutatus ab illo?_ I shall next expect to hear of Arthur’s creeping. Mure I knew always to be a prince in his ideas; I am glad to hear he is able to be so in his works. Cullum can dignify any subject, and interest his reader in the most insignificant, so I conclude we all read even his Hawstead Antiquities with pleasure and instruction. But what is Symonds[84] about? not six yards round I hope like Falstaff—_l._[85] Pray ramble once more to Ireland either by the proxy of a letter or in person. You will ever be welcome to your affectionate friend,