

By the way, I think the constancy and sufferings of that renowned knight bear a much greater similitude to my sufferings than to yours; for I do not find that you resemble him in any point but your misadventures, which like his, were the natural and necessary consequences of madness, enthusiasm, and folly—I hope I may venture to say this without offence, as you have so seriously declared your determination of becoming wise incontinently.
If any thing could have tempted me to leave Ireland, at present, it would

have been to meet you in London; but as you have now a much stronger inducement than my company, to urge your return, I shall remain in what you call my sorrowful solitude, as it is now not only become pleasant, but dear to me; for solitude is sometimes the nurse of contentment, as well as of woe.
From this hint, you will conclude my heart to be more at ease, than when I wrote last to you, and your conclusion will be just.—It is, indeed, much more at ease, yet more anxious still—Love deals in contradictions you see.
I shall now conclude, with subscribing myself, my dear Hume's
affectionate friend, and servant, LUCAN.



Paris.
I Tell you, Lucan, there is no such thing as resisting fate—Here am I, with as good and sober dispositions as any man of two and twenty in Europe, for ever getting into some scrape or other, without temptation, or excuse; or even knowing how, or why, I became engaged! Well, then, a knight errant I certainly am, of nature's own dubbing, and I will now courteously relate to you, myself, for want of a 'squire, my new achievement.
But first I must acquaint you, that ever since our arrival here, Sir George

Cleveland has been so totally taken up with some private business of his own, that poor melancholy I have been left to the pleasant amusement of contemplating my own extravagance, and folly, which has, you know, deprived me of the happiness of seeing, or conversing with his charming sister, who has met him here; and as I quitted Naples almost at a minute's warning, I left old Robert to pack up my cloaths, and bring them after me.
In this situation I could not possibly make my appearance in public, or even venture to visit any of my quondam acquaintance, in my travelling-dress.—I spent two days, tout seul, and found an unlucky truth, that any company would be less dull to me than my
