On the arrival of our traveller in London, he went to reside in the Strand, at the house of his sister, Mrs. Townsend. Here, having now entirely abandoned all mercantile pursuits, he lived as a private gentleman, employed in compiling the history of his travels, and in constant acts of benevolence. The application to sedentary employment, which was so little in unison with the former tenor of his life, and which the exercise of his charity was not sufficient to diversify, very quickly injured his health; so that he was compelled for relaxation to travel once more, though his excursion was confined to France and the Netherlands. About this period the question respecting the expediency of naturalizing the Jews was agitated in most of the countries of Europe; and Hanway, on most other occasions just and philanthropic, yielded in this instance to the force of narrow and inhuman prejudices; and argued in a pamphlet, now very properly condemned to oblivion, in favour of the absurd laws by which this portion of our fellow-creatures have been in so many countries excluded from the enjoyment of the rights of man. His other works were devoted to better purposes; he promoted, as far as was in his power, the paving of the streets of London; he laboured to convince the English people of the futility of the fears they seemed to entertain of a French invasion, than which nothing could be more absurd or impracticable; he founded the Marine Society, intended to encourage the breed of seamen; he endeavoured benevolently, but ridiculously, to discourage the habit of tea-drinking; he laboured to improve the Foundling Hospital institution; was the principal means of founding the Magdalen Hospital, or asylum for repentant public women; advocated the cause of the orphan poor; and, by reasoning and ridicule, exposed the practice of _vails giving_, as it was termed, by which a man who was invited to the table of the great was made to pay threefold for his dinner. According to Mr. Pugh, he was incited to the exposure of this abuse by Sir Timothy Waldo. “Sir Timothy,” says he, “had dined with the duke (of Newcastle), and, on his leaving the house, was contributing to the support and insolence of a train of servants who lined the hall, and at last put a crown into the hands of the cook, who returned it, saying, ‘Sir, I do not take silver.’—‘Don’t you, indeed?’ said the worthy knight, putting it in his pocket, ‘then I do not give gold.’” Among the ludicrous circumstances mentioned in Mr. Hanway’s letter is one which happened to himself. He was paying the servants of a respectable friend for a dinner which their master had invited him to, one by one, as they appeared. “Sir, your great-coat;” _a shilling_; “Your hat;” _a shilling_; “Stick;” _a shilling_; “Umbrella;” _a shilling_; “Sir, your gloves.”—“Why, friend, you may keep the gloves: they are not worth a shilling.”