When I have done thinking of politics, and that is always in an instant, unless such as you and Mr. Conway are involved in them, I am far from passing my time disagreeably.  My mind is of no gloomy turn, and I have a thousand ways of amusing myself.  Indeed of late I have been terribly frightened lest I must give them all up; my fears have gone to extravagance; do not wonder; my life is not quite irrational, and I trembled to think that I was growing fit only to consort with dowagers.  What an exchange, books and drawings, and every thing of that sort, for cards!  In short, for ten weeks I have had such pains in my eyes with the least application, that I thought I should lose them, at least that they would be useless.  I was told that with reading and writing at night I had strained and relaxed the nerves.  However, I am convinced that though this is partly the case, the immediate uneasiness came from a cold, which I caught in the hot weather by giving myself Florentine airs, by lying with my windows open, and by lying on the ground without my waistcoat.  After trying forty ’you should do this’s,’(833) Mr. Chute has cured me -with a very simple medicine:  I will tell it you, that you may talk to Dr. Cocchi and about my eyes too.  It is to bathe and rub the outsides all round, especially on the temples, with half a teaspoonful of white spirit of lavender (not lavender-water) and half of Hungary-water.  I do this night and morning, and sometimes in the day:  in ten days it has taken off all the uneasiness; I can now read in a chaise, which I had totally lost, and for five or six hours by candle-light, without spectacles or candle-screen.  In short, the difference is incredible.  Observe that they watered but little, and were less inflamed; only a few veins appeared red, whereas my eyes were remarkably clear.  I do not know whether this would do with any humour, but that I never had.  It is certain that a young man who for above twelve years had studied the law by being read to, from vast relaxation of the nerves, totally recovered the use of his eyes.  I should think I tired you with this detail, if I was not sure that you cannot be tired with learning any thing for the good of others.  As the medicine is so hot, it must not be let into the eyes, nor I should think be continued too long.

I approve much of your letter to Mr. Fox; I will give it to him at his return, but at present he is on a tour.  How scrupulous you are in giving yourself the trouble to send me a copy—­was that needful? or are you not always full of attentions that speak kindness?  Your brother will take care to procure the vases when they come, and is inquiring for the liqueurs.

I am putting up a stone in St. Ann’s churchyard for your old friend King Theodore; in short, his history is too remarkable to be let perish.  Mr. Bentley says that I am not only an antiquarian, but prepare materials for future antiquarians.  You will laugh to hear that when I sent the inscription to the vestry for the approbation of the ministers and churchwardens, they demurred, and took some days to consider whether they should suffer him to be called King of Corsica.  Happily they have acknowledged his title!  Here is the inscription; over it is a crown exactly copied from his coin: