think they look best in winter.  You have still a more unlucky thought; which Is, to visit the Vine in October.  When I saw it in the middle of summer, it was excessively damp; you will find it a little difficult to persuade me to accompany you thither On stilts, and I believe Mr. Chute Will not be quite happy that you prefer that season; but for this I cannot answer at present, for he is at Mr. Morris’s in Cornwall.  I shall expect you and the Colonel here at the time you appoint.  I engage for no farther, unless it is a very fine season indeed.  I beg my compliments to Miss Montagu, and am yours ever.

218 Letter 111
To Sir Horace Mann. 
Arlington Street, Oct. 6, 1754.

You have the kindest way in the world, my dear Sir, of reproving my long silence, by accusing yourself.  I have looked at my dates, and though I was conscious Of not having written to you for a long time, I did not think it had been so long as three months.  I ought to make some excuse, and the truth is all I can make; if you have heard by any way in the world that a single event worth mentioning has happened in England for these three months, I will own myself guilty of abominable neglect.  If there has not, as you know my unalterable affection for you, you will excuse me, and accuse the times.  Can one repeat often, that every thing stagnates?  At present we begin to think that the world may be roused again, and that an East Indian war and a West Indian war may beget such a thing as an European war.  In short, the French have taken such cavalier liberties with some of our forts, that are of great consequence to cover Virginia, Carolina, and Georgia, that we are actually despatching two regiments thither.  As the climate and other American circumstances are against these poor men, I pity them, and think them too many, if the French mean nothing farther; too few, if they do.  Indeed, I am one of those that feel less resentment when we are attacked so far off:  I think it an obligation to be eaten the last.

You have entertained me much with the progress of the history of the Delmontis, and obliged me.  I wish I could say I was not shocked at the other part of your letter, where you mention the re-establishment of the Inquisition at Florence.  Had Richcourt power enough to be so infamous! was he superstitious, fearful, revengeful, or proud of being a tool of the court of Rome?  What is the fate of the poor Florentines, who are reduced to regret the Medicis, who had usurped their government!  You may be glad, my dear child, that I am not at Florence; I should distress your ministerial prudence, your necessary prudence, by taking pleasure to speak openly of Richcourt as he deserves:  you know my warmth upon power and church power!